


Someday My Prince Will Come

by megazorzz



Series: An Heir for a Kingdom [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: All combinations, Alpha Gladiolus Amicitia, Alpha Ignis Scientia, Alpha Prompto Argentum, Alpha/Alpha, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Babies, Blind Ignis Scientia, Canon Disabled Character, Canon-Typical Violence, Childbirth, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Hospitalization, Hospitals, I ship them all together, Is it Canon Divergence if it's in an official DLC?, It's up to you if Noctis has his beard or not, Long Night, M/M, Mpreg, Multi, Older Chocobros (Final Fantasy XV), Omega Noctis Lucis Caelum, POV Alternating, Pack Dynamics, Pack Feels, Post-Apocalypse, Post-Canon, Post-World of Ruin, Pregnancy, Prompto definitely shaved that chin beard, There will be fluff I swear, World of Ruin, can you tell that I have a soft spot for Gladiolus?, implied amputation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-02-09 19:08:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18644287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/megazorzz/pseuds/megazorzz
Summary: Noctis' due date is fast approaching and they all eagerly await the arrival of their child. The pack takes some time off from their duties to ready themselves for their pup's arrival—a day that they thought might never come.Their happy tasks dredge up his pack's memories of the World of Ruin, when each and every day was filled with strife and darkness. Though their lives could not be more different now, painful memories of their time apart inevitably linger. Though Noctis has heard countless stories of his pack's struggles, he still has much to learn. He knows that it will take time, but they have earned a lifetime to share, heal, and laugh together as a family. What better time than the present?





	1. Chapter 1

“Delivery!” Noctis heard Prompto call out from the foyer. He sat at their vanity, sipping is decaf coffee and preparing himself for the day ahead. He was showing prominently now, his lower abdomen a pleasing hill. His due date was fast approaching, a thought that made his head spin. There was still so much to do to prepare for their pup’s arrival.

A great rustle of plastic and paper approached the bedroom. Prompto wrangled an armful of suits, freshly pressed for the week ahead.

Noctis thanked Prompto as he pecked him on the cheek as he hung the suits nearby. “Morning, babe.” He knelt down and rubbed Noctis’ stomach, which was becoming rounder and rounder by the day. “And good morning, baby.” He served himself some oatmeal and sat next to Noctis. “Iggy and Gladio already out?”

“Yeah, just the normal drill. Gladio’s getting the Crownsguard assembled while Iggy is coordinating with the press and school administrators for today's event.”

“Wouldn’t be surprised if Iggy had the enrollment papers done by the time we arrive,” Prompto said fondly. He wrapped his arms about Noctis’ shoulders. “Our pup’s going to our old school! I can hardly believe it’s happening,” Prompto said. He lost himself in thought. "Oh, I hope our pup fits in!"

“He knows our pup won’t be hopping through those doors for—I don’t know—another five years, right?” Noctis said as he steadied himself against the vanity.

 “Can’t start these things too early. Enrollment there is probably gonna be pretty cutthroat.”  

“We’ve opened so many schools across Insomnia. Can’t imagine why,” Noctis said.

Prompto stroked his chin in faux thought. “I don’t know, maybe it’s the fact that you’re an alum has _something_ to do with it. They’ll probably would roll out the red carpet and pull out all the stops on our pup’s first day of school.”

Noctis smiled and shook his head. “Sounds a bit over-the-top, don’t you think? I don’t want our pup thinking they’re better than everyone else,” Noctis noted as he walked toward the freshly pressed suits. “My father sent me to public school for a reason, you know.”

“To meet your future packmate?” Prompto joked as he batted his eyelashes.

“ _That_ my old man did not predict.” Noctis ruffled his hair and gave him a peck on the forehead. “No, he placed me there to give me some sense of normalcy. And to tacitly endorse the public-school curriculum, I suppose.”

Noctis examined a light cashmere suit in navy check. The front was open and draped beautifully. Two silver pins were folded in cloth in the bag’s pocket, for closure. Noctis thought it was a shame that he’d only be able to wear the maternity raiment for a finite amount of time. That is, unless they had another pup. The thought made his head spin as he draped the jacket over his shoulders.

“Wasn’t there a big hubbub about your being in public school?” 

“You bet there was. The council tried repeatedly to change his mind. He and his father and his father before him had private tutors from elite universities. What was it my father wrote?” Noctis wondered aloud. “Ah, ‘They looked at me as if naga had slithered out of my ears.’”

Prompto hugged him from behind and nuzzled the nape of his neck. “I’m glad King Regis did it anyway. I think you turned out just fine. You're a great role model.”

Noctis checked his watch. “Not if we’re late for our keynote with the student body. Let’s go,” Noctis said. As fast as he could manage, he dressed and was out the door and descended down the long elevator to the garage.

Noctis’ entourage pulled up to the front gates of the school, just as the morning light glinted off the stained-glass windows. Below them was a blue satin ribbon strung before the doors. It was surreal. Hundreds of parents and children waited in anticipation. Noctis himself had walked in and out of those doors hundreds of times over the course of his youth, and here he was years later at a re-opening event for the new academic year. He braced himself. This was only the first of many ribbon cuttings of the day.

“I see Gladio and Iggy. Ready for your close-up?” Prompto asked, gesturing with his camera.

“Only if you get my good side.”

Prompto rubbed Noctis’ stomach. “You look great, Noct. Let’s go!”

Prompto booted the door open. He held out his hand, and Noctis took it, helping him as he stepped out of the Regalia. Immediately, the flash of camera bulbs and the chatter of beaming news reporters hit the two like a wall.

Noctis straightened his back and walked arm and arm to up the stairs to the podium. He kissed Gladiolus and Ignis on the cheek as his pack gathered behind him. Gladiolus held the comically large scissors, whose jeweled handles glittered in the sunlight. Noctis wished they would’ve chosen something less garish, but there you go.

“Welcome, one and all: parents and guardians, teachers and tutors, citizens and, most importantly, our students. It is breathtaking to acknowledge how far we have all come since the dawn broke. Today, a dozen schools open their doors to the bright young minds of Insomnia, those who will carry our legacy into the future, for generations innumerable.”

He met the gaze of each student, who stood alert and attentive in their crisp uniforms, Insomnia’s insignia emblazoned on their chests. Many appeared old enough to have experienced the World of Ruin, not to mention the staff. He could tell from their watering eyes that many loved ones were on their mind, ones who should have been here today. Noctis grasped the edges of the podium and regained his stature. 

“I myself stood where you all stand now, in front of the gates of this historic learning institution. Though the circumstances could not be more different. I stood at the height of Insomnia’s cloistering—when we thought the city impervious to the maligned forces of Niflheim. The World of Ruin was not even a concept for my generation, and many of you have lived through the ceaseless dark—wise and experienced beyond your years. In many ways, you all are more prepared and eager than I ever was at your age.

“If you all can believe it, I was not the best pupil. I took my schooling for granted. On many occasions, I gave my dear, trusted adviser and packmate conniptions by cutting class and playing hooky—not to mention the stress I caused him with my endless procrastination.” The crowd laughed in good humor. Noctis looked to Ignis, whose smile was taut as he remembered Noctis’ less dignified days.

“My own father, who I now know was paying closer attention than I ever gave him credit for, was shocked at my mediocre grades and lack of foresight.  At the time, I thought that nothing I did mattered. My father was king, our New Wall kept us safe from intrusion, and we were stalemated in a war I thought so distant. I believed because my fate was so predetermined and ordained by kingdom and by the Six, that I had no say in the matter and let myself fall into malaise. But I was wrong, naïve and unprepared. When Niflheim at last infiltrated our city, and assassinated my father, my mind was not prepared to assess the situation, or to accept my destiny as a young person to take responsibility for my own future.

“In this respect, you are all miles ahead of me when I was your age. Those of your who survived the World of Ruin know the value of careful preparation, while many others have someone close who has weathered the storm. I have no doubt in my mind that all of you will find your own greatness: you will become the politicians, scientists, researchers, historians, social workers, homemakers, counselors, and parents of a new Insomnia. But greatness does not come without difficulty. You will struggle through challenges academic and social, find yourselves, lose yourselves, and find a new self. Through it all you will learn and grow and change. I have no doubts you will all persevere and grow into outstanding individuals. You, after all, have something I did not have. Perspective. I welcome you all to your first day of school. Make the most of it.”

He took a step away from the podium. An attendant beamed and handed him the jeweled scissors. Noctis smirked and raised his arm. Into his hand he summoned the Sword of the Father, and in a flash he sliced the blue satin ribbon in two to uproarious applause.

Gladiolus rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t stifle a proud grin. Prompto already had camera in hand, catching the moment when the other photographers no doubt missed it.

Ignis stepped up to the podium next. “Thank you, my king, for your rousing speech. Indeed, the gift of hindsight has taught him the value of learning and mindfulness toward your teachers and classmates. On behalf of the King’s Circle, the Consulate, and the City of Insomnia, I declare Insomnia Preparatory Academy officially open.”

The crowd cheered and, as if practiced, the students lined up in two lines to enter through the front doors, passing by the pack as they shouted thanks and adulation. Parents wiped their eyes. “I’d never thought this day would come,” an Alpha choked out. “Thank you, my king.”

Noctis felt a soft kick in his womb as they passed by. He smiled widely and fondly, making sure to welcome each and every student. Once the students and staff were situated, Ignis eagerly led Noctis by the hand, having already memorized the hallways. “I’ll need help filling out the applications,” Ignis said. "Come."

He felt his Alpha’s heat over his shoulder as he filled out the application to Ignis' dictation. Prompto and Gladiolus held each other as Noctis’ fountain pen crawled across the pages. Ignis came prepared, rattling off their medical histories for the benefit of the school’s infirmary, their educational backgrounds and achievements. “Don't remember my GPA being _that_ high,” Noctis remarked.

“It would be more accurate to say _our_ , GPA, Noct,” Ignis joked,

“Ouch.”

Then came the initials and signatures. They all sat around the desk, passing the papers between them. Noctis guided Ignis’ hand to the appropriate lines in the form. Ignis lifted his tinted glasses, wiping his eyes with his handkerchief as tears rolled down his cheeks. He stroked the page.

“Mr. Scientia, what is wrong?” the head of school asked. “Can I get you anything?”

“I-I’m sorry. Don’t know what came over me,” Ignis said as he folded his handkerchief neatly. “It’s such a big occasion. An important step.”

“One of ours enrolled in school,” Gladiolus mused, folding his hands in his lap. His gaze met Prompto’s and Noctis’. His eyes watered and instead of sucking them back, he let one fall. “It wasn’t even five years ago that…that…”

Noctis grasped his pack in an embrace. He capped the pen and put all the papers in a neat stack and offered it to the head of school. “Congratulations, my king. See you at the open house!” she said.

 

*  *  *  *  *

 

Ignis lit a match and fed the flaming tip through the lantern’s hinged doorway. He listened for the soft crackle of the wick. He set the glowing lantern in the center of the table and hoped it would help the rest of them see. The sky grew darker by the day. The sun truly struggled to break through the clouds and miasmic pall which hung over the landscape. The warmth of the sun against his face was ever fleeting, yet he still held hope that Noctis would return, wreathed in light.

“What is the time, Prompto?”

“The kids should be here in about fifteen.” He stood to help Ignis orient the chairs and arrange the chalk board. “Running low on chalk. We have some more with our things. I’ll go grab ‘em.”

“Thank you, love.”

All things told it was a quiet day. That is, if one could even describe the passage of time in terms of day and night anymore. At least daemonic attacks subsided for the time being. Gladiolus was out in the field now with the Kingsglaive, scouting for supplies on their caravan from Cauthess to Lestallum.

As if on cue, Ignis’ radio crackled. “Ignis here. Go ahead.”

“Ah, Iggy!” Gladiolus’ voice rang out. “It’s good to hear your voice. We should be arriving at the old Saxham Outpost by evening, over.”

“It’s good to hear your voice too, Gladio. I’m just preparing for our class. Prompto should be back in a bit, if you’d like to talk to him. Over.”

“That’d be nice. Miss the little chocobo. How many are you expecting? Over.”

“A twenty or so. Mostly repeats, which is good. I’m handing back essays and papers. They’re just eating it up. Over.”

“Because they have you for a teacher, Iggy.” Gladiolus paused. Ignis heard a hitch in his breath. “You helped put Lucis’ most stubborn student through middle and high school, after all….over.”

Ignis chuckled bitterly. “That I did. These kids are so eager to learn. It’s a piece of cake compared to…him,” Ignis said fondly. “It helps maintain a sense of normalcy. Over.”

Prompto dumped the supplies on the table and ran over to Ignis. “Is that Gladio? Hi, Gladio!” he called into the radio.

“Prompto! I was just giving a status report. Over.”

“We can’t wait to see you, Gladio. It’s been so long. We have a rare piece of steak on ice for you when you get here. What’s your ETA? Over.”

“ETA is four days, if we keep up this pace. I also got the supplies for your little school. Tell the kids Uncle Gladio has some fresh pencils and paper, will ya? A few books too. Over.”

“Will do,” Prompto said. “We’re doing book reports today. Over.”

The radio crackled and buzzed. The twist of metal and a low roar erupted over the radio.

“Gladio!” Prompto yelled.

“Gotta cut this short, guys. Iron Giant just erupted from the hillside. Nothing we can’t handle. Love you both. See you soon. Over and out!”

The radio crackled out and they were left in silence. Unbeknownst to them, their students stood in the doorway of the Lestallum hotel, clutching their papers, eyes wide and some watering. Two adult Lestallum residents stood behind them, notebooks clutched tightly to their chests.

Ignis turned to them. “Uncle Gladio is on his way,” he said, keeping his voice calm and steady. “He also has a big bag of supplies and books for all of you to share.” He waved for the two Lestallum residents to come to the front.

“For the next week, Mr. and Mrs. Alvanium will be attending class with us. Prompto and I have a bunch of other kids to help out in other parts of Lucis and they will be here to teach you from then on.”

A ten-year-old sprang from his seat and sprinted up to Ignis, wrapping his arms tightly about his knees. He sobbed, shaking his head and struggling to gather himself. Ignis rubbed his hair gently. Prompto wiped his eyes and knelt down to console the frightened child.

“We’ll be back buddy, don’t worry. We’re the Kings pack. No nasty daemons will get us. We will be okay! You can count on that.”

“T-that’s what mommy and daddy said too!” the child wailed. “Don’t leave Mr. Iggy!” His book dropped to the ground. Other children began to whimper and shake in rapport. Ignis freed his legs and got on his knees.

He wiped the child’s eyes and handed him his book, his smile wide and sad. “I know goodbyes are tough, Peter. Saying goodbye to the people you’ve come to care for, who you have grown used to having near and who you never thought would leave, is always hard. It’s hard for me too. All of you have been such wonderful students. You are all so brave and strong. I’ve looked forward to our little classroom just as much as all of you have—maybe even more.” Ignis cleared the mussed-up hair from Peter’s eyes. “But my packmate and I have to keep helping other kids too. We’re all in this together, and we need to do our best to help each other.” Ignis smiled. “Someday our prince will come. I want all of us to be ready for the day he returns.”

Prompto choked back a sob. Ignis’s glasses obscured his eyes, but he could tell his packmate was holding back a flood of tears. His gestures were so smooth and graceful, learned from years of practice and acrobatics. He knew when Ignis was utilizing his training. They had to be brave for the children, not to mention the young couple that would be filling void they left behind. “T-That’s right! We gotta make sure we do our best—for each other, for Lucis!”

Peter calmed down, hiccupping, knuckles white from the iron grip on his tattered book. He hugged Ignis and Prompto and returned to his seat, knees quaking. With a sweep of his hand, Ignis invited everyone to sit, watching as they eagerly unfolded their little reports which were written on scraps of wrinkled, re-used paper. Ignis’ heart swelled as they told their peers what they’ve read and the lessons they’ve learned.

As Ignis tilted his head to listen, he grasped Prompto’s hand, lower lip trembling.

 

*  *  *  *  * 

 

Ignis clutched their pup’s registration papers and their receipts to his chest. Just holding them made him swell with pride, despite the fact he could not read the print. His heart thrummed in his chest. He sensed his omega next to him. Ignis was dizzy with excitement. Their pup in school, what a thought!

“I wonder if my old hiding spots are still here,” Noctis said. “If they are, our pup will sniff them out for sure. I hope they won’t be too much of a handful.”

“It’ll be an uphill battle. They’ll have your genes, after all,” Gladiolus said, clapping Noctis on the shoulder. He smiled from ear to ear as he read over his copy of the application. The name of course was left blank, as Noctis was tight-lipped about the name that was on his mind.

“But they’ll also have Iggy’s too,” Prompto rejoined. “And mine. I did a pretty bang-up job in class, if I do say so myself.”

“That’s because you learned discipline and self-control,” Gladiolus said. “Took years for Prince bonehead to get the message.”

“In all fairness to our omega, he also had the hardest lessons to learn,” Ignis said.

“Thank you, Iggy,” Noctis sighed. “Nice to have _someone_ in my corner.”

“You were just a late bloomer, that’s all,” Ignis teased. Noctis flushed and gave Ignis a little shove. The pack roared with laughter as they wandered through the halls. As they passed through the kindergarten spaces, a classroom door flew open, startling the pack. If he did not know better, Ignis would have conjured his blades.

A young omega man stood in the doorway. Ignis could sense his excitement. “Forgive my interruption. Would you happen to be Mr. Scientia, advisor to the king?” Behind the omega, young students gathered to gaze upon the King and his pack. His eyes watered when they alighted on Ignis’ scarred face. “It really is you. It’s been so long, Mr. Scientia.”

A previously dark part of Ignis’ memory sparked alive. “…Peter, is that you?”

“So you do remember! I-I’m glad,” the young omega said. “And Mr. Argentum is here too.”

“Hey, lil’ Peter,” Prompto exclaimed. “Long time no see, buddy! What brings you here?”

“Why, I’m a teacher here. Today’s my first day. At this school, I mean, not teaching,” Peter said, beaming. “I’ve gotten a lot of experience in that first-hand.”

“Peter, that’s wonderful. Thank you for answering our call,” Ignis said warmly. “Teachers are so vital to the health of Lucis and Insomnia.”

“How could I not answer the recruitment ads? You inspired me, Mr. Scientia. After I lost my parents I…I had a hard time finding my way. The only thing I had to look forward to was your little classroom, tucked into the refugee tents in Lestallum.”

“That’s so much responsibility for someone your age,” Noctis said, grasping Igins’ hand. “Though with Ignis as your teacher, I’m not surprised. He really brings out the best in people.”

Peter nodded enthusiastically. “After you and Mr. Argentum left, I made a vow to do as much as I could for the other kids. I taught the younger kids, just learning as I went along and helping Mr. and Mrs. Alvanium. Fast forward several years and I found myself on a caravan to Insomnia with your fliers in hand.” He stepped forward bowing deeply form the waist. “I-I just wanted to thank you, Mr. Scientia. And you, my king, and his shield, and Mr. Argentum too! I can never repay you for the good you’ve done.”

Noctis waved his hand. “No need to bow. The fact that you’ve found your calling is all I need.”

Ignis extended his copy of the application for Peter’s inspected. “I suppose it is proper that you should be the first staff member to know—seeing how you teach kindergarten. Our child will be enrolled here as well.”

“You mean?”

“I’d be honored to have you be their first teacher.”

“If you think that’s best, Iggy,” Gladiolus chimed in. “You might have a lot on your plate, Peter. Our pup will be a real handful.”

“Of course it’s for the best. Peter learned from the best, after all,” Noctis said with a wide smile which Ignis could not see, but felt on his skin like sunlight.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

The dust and sand billowed behind the wheels of the Regalia. The wind swept through their hair as Prompto put down the roof. The four breathed a sigh of contentedness as the sun bathed them in warmth.

"It's nice to get out of the rain," Noctis said.

“We're lucky we have such a beautiful day to road-trip in,” Prompto said. In the rear-view window, he watched as Ignis spread sunscreen on Noctis’ cheeks and forehead. Gladiolus utterly immersed himself in his book, “What to Expect When Your Pack’s Expecting," eyes rapidly scanning the pages.

“Says here we’ll need to change the car seat according to our pup’s height and weight,” Gladiolus said, eyes glued to the page. “They’ll be using a car seat for a while. Probably into second or third grade. The model of the car matters too,” Gladiolus reported. "Now do we need rear-facing or front-facing...?" 

“Doubt we’d ever find one that fit the Regalia,” Noctis said. “Take it easy on the sunscreen, Iggy!”

“Don’t you think it would be silly to get a burn from the very sun you brought back?”

Noctis crossed his arms over his full stomach. He felt a kick. “The baby agrees,” Noctis sighed. “Alright, Iggy, lemme have it.” He squinted his eyes shut as Ignis poured on the sunscreen.

An old truck roared past. Prompto could have sworn he had seen it somewhere before. He watched it grow tiny in the rear view mirror. It was just as he thought; near the tail light was a small signature of his and Cindy's. "Can't believe it's still running," he said quietly to himself.

"Did you say something," Gladiolus asked from behind his book.

“Oh! I-I see the Hammerhead!” Prompto said. “Cindy said she’d meet us outside.”

Cindy ran up to the car as they pulled up, absolutely beaming. Cid sipped lemonade beneath his umbrella by the garage. He raised his glass.

“Howdy, guys!” Cindy called out. She ran over to Noctis and gave him a big hug. “Wow, you’re so far along! No wonder you wanted a rush job on this.”

“Just because it’s a rush doesn’t mean you can cut corners,” Gladiolus implored.

“Oh, cut the Alpha act,” Cid called out from his shady seat. “Cindy's never done wrong by you!”

“That’s just his parental instincts kickin’ in, paw. No harm done,” Cindy said. She hopped over to the Regalia and whipped out a tape measure. “How much time are we talkin’?”

“Well, we wouldn’t need a seat until after the baby’s here. Should be due in a month or so,” Noctis said. “I don’t think we’ll be in any state to go road-tripping after the delivery.”

“Regardless, we will need a car seat for an infant, for the time being,” Ignis said. “There is no telling when we will be called upon to travel."

“I see you’re already followin’ in your Reggie's footsteps, Noctis. Spoilin’ yer pup rotten before they even get here,” Cid said. He chuckled in a raspy voice and took a sip of his lemonade. “When I was pup, I didn’t need any fancy car-seat. Hell, we didn’t even wear seat belts.”

“And that’s how you got that crooked nose,” Cindy said. She smiled and shook her head as she took the measurements down. “He was lucky he didn’t fly through the windshield,” she whispered to the pack. “Saberclaw crossing.”

“Now who told you that?”

“ _You_ did, don’t you remember?” Cindy said.

Noctis looked over to Cid, whose eyes were soft and fond.as he sipped on his lemonade. “Next thing you know, you’ll be interrupting my retirement to upgrade your kid’s sword or spear or some nonsense.”

“You know it,” Noctis said flashing him a thumbs-up and a grin. “This spoiled King was raised on the best weapons in all of Lucis. The _best_ of the best. I’ll want ‘em for my pup too!”

Cid hid his fond smile while he downed his lemonade. “Best of the best, huh” he said with a proud smirk. “Wouldn’t hurt to get some tinkerin’ in, I s’pose."

Prompto hopped over to Cid. "You always liked workin' on engine weapons too. Now that we're formally allied with them, they're all the rage in Insomnia.”

“Let's stick to the task, boys. How many car seats do you think you’ll need?” Cindy asked.

Gladiolus held the book open for Cindy to examine. “We’ll be changing it out every month or so as they grow,” he said. His eyes glinted at the thought of the baby growing up. “And they’ll be growing fast. I shot up like a weed. Needed a new uniform every other week, growing up.”

“How tall were you when you were eight?”

“Nearly as tall as my old man,” Gladiolus answered with pride and big smile.

“Yikes! That is good to know,” Cindy said.

“I’ll make a note to get you our growth records once we return to Insomnia,” Ignis said. “I had an assistant find them for me just the other day.”

“That would be great. Thanks, Iggy,” Cindy said, snapping her notebook shut.

“So whatcha thinkin’?” Prompto asked as Cindy finished measuring. “Got any ideas?”

Cindy tapped her jaw and was lost in calculations. “Something adjustable would make the most sense. Seat needs to be proportional to the kid in size and in weight and also fit in the Regalia.” She jogged over to the workbench in the garage, with the pack trailing close behind her.

She got out her ruler and graphing paper and started sketching. Noctis’ eyes closely followed the elegant trail of her pencil as she sketched the seat.

“An adjustable seat makes sense,” Prompto said. “And as you add extensions and make the seat bigger—”

“—the weight would increase to be appropriately proportioned to the pup,” Cindy finished for him. “I see you’ve already given it a little thought.”

“A little,” Prompto said, blushing. “I’m no car expert though.”

“Aw, don’t sell yourself short,” Cindy said. “During the long night, you did a ton of good work ‘round here.”

“Good enough to have some of those trucks running around Insomnia still,” Gladiolus added, ruffling Prompto’s hair. “He’s our little machinist!”

“Thanks, guys,” Prompto said.

 

*  *  *  *  *

 

“It’s open! Now!” Gladiolus shouted. Prompto spun around, pulling his crossbow from the Armiger. A cascade of bolts flew through the darkness, piercing the Red Giant’s breastplate. Cracks and fissures opened up in chest and it collapsed to its knees. Gladiolus kicked off of the giant’s knee cap, winding up for a grand swing of his great sword.

Prompto pulled his Death Sentence from the Armiger, firing a a few rounds just moments before Gladiolus’ sword came crashing down. The sword hissed as it cleaved the Daemon in two. Misty miasma spewed from the giant gash as the giant crumbled backwards, fading into the darkness.

Headlights pierced the blackened fog. Prompto fired a flare, keeping the lesser bumps in the night at bay. Some more precocious creatures crept forward, prompting a second flare from Prompto’s gun.

Talcott sped forward as Cindy opened the gates to Hammerhead. “Come on in, guys!” she shouted to Prompto and Gladiolus. “Hurry!”

The truck sputtered in before them, nearly on its last legs. Prompto and Gladiolus ducked inside the gates. The floodlights blinked on, keeping the darkness at bay.

Gladiolus and Prompto collapsed against one another as they made their way to the weathered picnic table. Prompto sank into Gladiolus’ chest as the larger Alpha caught his breath.

“That was nuts,” Prompto said. Gladiolus’ considerable hands ran up and down Prompto's back. “Three giants? Feels like they keep getting closer to Hammerhead.”

“You did good out there,” he said. “You really have your attack pattern down.”

“Five years of shooting in the dark will do that,” Prompto said grimly. The sputtering engine rattled and died just as Talcott climbed down from the cabin. He bowed from the waist. “Thank you. I thought I was done for. I ran into a herd of daemons about three clicks from here. It’s like they knew where I was going. Talk about a close call.”

Prompto swung backwards, leaning against Gladiolus. “I think we’ll need to redefine, ‘close call.’ It seems like the new normal,” he said.

Cindy popped the hood open. Smoke and steam erupted into the air. “Dang, Talcott, you made it in on this thing?"

“Yup. It was the last truck in the lot.”

“We can close off that area to scavengers then. No use wandering into an empty Imperial base,” Gladiolus said. “Thank you for your hard work, Talcott. You have another successful operation under your belt.”

Prompto stood and stretched and made his way to look at the damage. Cindy’s flashlight flitted from nook to nook, Prompto’s eyes following it closely.

“It’s a pretty old engine,” Prompto said. “We may have to improvise with some of the parts. I think we can get it up and running though with some tender loving care.”

"Do you think you can do it?" Talcott asked.

“It sounds worse than it actually is,” Cindy said, nodding. “These bad boys are known for their ruggedness. Wish grampy were here to see it. It would really bring him back.”

“How soon can you get it running? The Kingsglaive over near Old Lestallum need more trucks for their caravan,” Gladiolus stated. “They need to act quickly. Once the wind shifts, they will lose their shot at moving out. The miasma will be blowing up and down that highway, making travel inadvisable.”

“We’ll need to look it over,” Prompto said. “Might take longer—can’t guarantee anything.” He pried the door open. The hinges squealed from the caked on rust and massive dents. “Interior is okay, all things considered. Seat belts are all shot. We will be installing more in the truck bed. They’re using it to transport refugees, right?”

“That’s why we need to get a truck to them ASAP,” Gladiolus said. “We can’t afford to miss our window.”

Prompto’s knuckles whitened as he gripped the flashlight. “We need to look at the airbags too. If we can make it safer, then we ought to.”

“We don’t have time, Prompto. Weren’t you listening?” Gladiolus countered. “They need—”

“Do you know how dumb it would be to make it this far in the night and die in a car accident?” Prompto barked back. “'Sorry, Noct. Talcott would’a been here to welcome you back, but he broke his neck in a car accident.’ Does that sound okay to you?”

Prompto balled his fists at his side, staring Gladiolus down, despite the fact that he craned his neck to see his honey-colored eyes. Gladiolus’ jaw clenched, waiting for the other Alpha’s next move.

“Prompto…” Cindy murmured.

“We’ve lost too many already. We can’t afford any more injuries from us not bein’ careful, alright? What would Noctis say if he heard us bickering about this? Sorry, I got all Alpha-y, Gladio, but we’re doing it my way,” Prompto said, focusing his watering eyes on the truck.

“Prompto…” Gladiolus sighed. “No, you’re right. I shouldn’t have second-guessed you.”

“Damn right, I’m right. Now, Cindy, we have some nylon straps in the third drawer. Should be enough to install a few seat belts in the truck bed.” He stepped up onto the truck bed and hopped about. “Less rust up here.”

Gladiolus left Prompto to his work. Over the next few hours, Prompto buried himself in the truck’s restoration, dismantling the engine and console and laying the parts out neatly on the tarp. The metal lamp hummed in the corner, casting his slender shadow over the truck and gleaming metal bits.

Gladiolus watched him intermittently from the garage doorway. He brought Prompto a tin of rations and some day-old coffee, letting his fellow Alpha pour his energy into his work. There would be times when Prompto would sequester himself for days. Gladiolus supposed it was Prompto’s way of keeping his mind off of Noctis. However, from the way Prompto would whimper and reach out in his sleep, their omega was never far from his thoughts.

Prompto toiled into the early hours of morning. Gladiolus peaked in, stopping when he noticed Prompto’s fingers quake. He fumbled the nuts and bolts, dropping to his hands and knees to seek them out after they scattered on the cracked cement floor. A screw rolled to the garage door, colliding with Gladiolus’ boot. When Prompto pinched it between his fingers, he looked up at Gladiolus with exhausted eyes. The bandage wrapped around his arm needed changing. His hands and face were streaked with oil and dirt, framing his bloodshot eyes. Gladiolus had had enough.

“Prompto,” Gladiolus said, kneeling down to speak with him on even ground, “you are wearing yourself too thin. Come to bed. You need some rest.”

Prompto chuckled and shook his head. “You said it yourself, didn’t you? We have to get this truck out ASAP. I’m just trying to make my deadline,” he said with a wry smile.

“You need rest. Overworking yourself won’t do any good for anyone.”

Prompto stood stubbornly and walked over to the truck. “I’m fine, Gladio. I’m used to it.”

“Let me change your bandages at least,” he said. “That iron giant nicked you pretty good.”

“Really?” Prompto said with genuine surprise. “I didn’t notice.”

“The bandage is soaked...”

Prompto frowned. “Okay. Make it quick.” He plopped down on a nearby stool as Gladiolus fetched the first aid kit. Before the Long Night, an injury like this would be no problem. Now, however, potions were ever in short supply, reserved for emergencies and the vulnerable. Prompto used his last on a caravan small, thin child a few days prior. 

Prompto kept his gaze on the truck. He was nowhere near done. He still had to reconstruct the engine, rotate the tires, patch up the axle and change the oil on top of that—if they had the proper oil, that is. If nothing else, the seat belts were done. The bare minimum. He stifled a yawn, eager to get a tool back in hand.

Before he knew it, Prompto was waking up on the tattered mattress in the corner. Gladiolus sat beside him reading. “You passed out for a bit there,” he said, putting away his book.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” Prompto said with a ring of irritation.

“Because you needed it. You fell asleep before I was done dressing your wound.”

“Back to work then,” Prompto said. He stumbled as he stood. The sleep had allowed the ache to enter his bones and spread through his muscles. He groaned.  “I still have so much to do…”

“You need more rest,” Gladiolus said. He set aside his book and grasped Prompto’s shoulders. He looked up at the massive Alpha. Gladiolus' eyes weren’t filled with reprimand but with worry. “We’ll get the truck out to the caravan later.”

“But, you said—”

“Forget what I said. You’re in no condition to work, Prompto.”

Prompto felt tears welling up. “I have to!” he yelled. He stomped his boot and balled up his fists. “Noctis left Lucis in our care, didn’t he? It’s our responsibility to take care of it while he’s away,” Prompto said, voice cracking. “If I don’t work then I—I don’t know what to do with myself! If he comes back, I need to show him that I did my share, that I took it seriously!”

Gladiolus winced at the mention of "if," that pernicious possibility that followed the remainder of the pack. He massaged Prompto's shoulders. He brought Prompto in close, feeling his callused fingers grasping him.

“If you mean what you say, then take responsibility for the people that will be riding in this truck. You’re right. It is a big responsibility, Prompto, but working yourself ragged won’t do anyone any good. It needs to be done right. How far would  _we_  have gotten if the Lucian mechanics tripped up in fixing the Regalia?” Gladiolus said. Despite the sternness of his voice, his touch was warm and soothing. Prompto melted against him, letting his exhaustion wash over him. Gladiolus held the smaller Alpha tight. “Your work is so important, Prompto.  _You_ are so important.”

Prompto’s mouth screwed into a tiny knot and he tucked himself in Gladiolus’ chest, weeping softly. “Oh, Gladio. I just—I miss our omega so much. I just work and work to keep myself distracted. That maybe if he’s watching, then I’m making him proud.” His voice was small and tired, but not resigned. 

Gladiolus rocked him steadily back and forth, like they used to do when Prompto got mad and frustrated during Crownsguard training or during their time on the road. “He is proud of you. Without your hard work, we would only have half the fleet we do now. It was no small feat."

He looked up at Gladiolus with a piercing gaze. “Y-you mean it?” he asked in earnest. He wiped the tears off with the back of his hand, leaving a trail of oil and grease in its wake.

Gladiolus nodded. He chuckled and wiped Prompto’s face with a rag. He took him up in his arms, carrying him to the shared bunk in the trailer nearby. He enveloped the smaller Alpha in his embrace.

“Someday our prince will come,” Prompto murmured wearily. “And when he does, we’ll have a big meal at Hammerhead, just like we used to.”

Gladiolus shushed him, wrapping him tightly in the threadbare blanket.

 

*  *  *  *  *

 

Takka served them a veritable feast. “This one’s on the house, fellas! A new recipe.” He placed full plates in front of each of them.

“Really? Thanks!” Prompto said, beaming. He tucked the car seat schematics into his folder and dug in.

“It’s not problem at all. Anything for our King and his pack.”

“Sorry we haven’t visited in a while,” Noctis said. “We’ve been running around getting ready for the pup, that we’ve been losing track of time.”

“It’s hard to believe the day is so close,” Gladiolus said. He grasped Noctis’ hand beneath the table.

“When’s it due, anyhow?” Takka asked.

“A couple weeks. At least according to Dr. Benefica,” Ignis said.

“My retirement ending that soon?” Cid asked incredulously.

“What do you mean?” Noctis asked.

“Before that pup is fit to handle a blade, y’all will be down here asking for this and that,” Cid said in playful resignation. He took out a tiny pad and started sketching.

“You were workin’ on a car just yesterday,” Cindy said.

“It’s the principle of the thing! Royal family’s serious business. Can’t be phoning it in,” Cid winked at Prompto. “I also can’t be outdone by one of the best mechanics around.”

“What? Me?” Prompto asked.

“You kept the place nice and busy over the long night,” Cid said. “Nothing worse for a garage then neglect and emptiness.”

“I think I saw a couple of old Kingsglaive vehicles just on our way here,” Noctis said. “Might've been ones you worked on, Prompto.” Noctis smiled. “Maybe our pup will be working on the Regalia someday with his old man.”

Prompto grinned a big dumb grin and shoveled Takka's delicious dish down. The fantasy elated him, and soon it will be a reality.

“When are you finding a nice omega?” Cid asked Cindy pointedly. “Startin’ to think I’ll never see any great-grandkids.”

She gagged and cleared her throat, flashing Cid a kind smile. “The Hammerhead Garage is all I need. She keeps me plenty busy.”

"Guess you got a point there," Cid said. "That means y'all will have to visit as soon as that pup comes,"

"You bet, Cid!" Prompto said. 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the tardy post. I needed to tweak it more than expected. Enjoy!

 

Noctis held his stomach and stumbled into the kitchen. He steadied himself against the doorway. “Iggy…”

“Noctis?” Ignis said, turning away from his cutting board. “What’s wrong?”

“I-I think we’d better get to the hospital,” Noctis managed to choke out. Ignis was on him in an instant, supporting his omega’s weight as he guided him to a stool nearby. “The baby is on its way.”

“Right away.” Ignis flipped his phone open and eased Noctis into a chair. “Group call: Prompto and Gladiolus,” he said into the receiver. Gladiolus picked up right away while Prompto took a couple rings. He put the phone on speaker.

“What is it?” Gladiolus asked.

“Meet me and Noct in the foyer. His dilations have begun,” Ignis said with a calm and cool tone.

Prompto choked on the other line. “Roger!” he managed. “I’m grabbing his bags. Be down post-haste!”

“Just texted the garage,” Gladiolus said. “The Regalia should be purring by the time we get down there. Remember to breathe, Noct!”

Noctis began counting and breathing, just as their doctor told him. Three second inhalation, three second exhalation, five second inhalation, five second exhalation, and so on. Noctis let Ignis guide him to the foyer, where he plopped down onto the bench. Ignis’ dark glasses obscured his eyes, making his expression difficult to read. His two packmates met them there. Prompto dashed to the elevator and tapped the call button.

“Come on…!” he begged under his breath.

When the doors opened, Ignis handed off Noctis to Gladiolus as they packed themselves in the elevator. Prompto popped open the panel and activated the override, ensuring their ride would proceed uninterrupted.

They descended down, the evening lights whizzing up to meet the pack. Noctis smelled their excitement and anxiety as the elevator proceeded underground. Gladiolus pinched the ruff of his neck, a calming mechanism he had read about earlier. Noctis became so calm that he jumped when the elevator’s bell rang; his own sympathetic nervous system was responding in kind to his Alphas’ sense of urgency.

As promised, the Regalia was running, manned by a wide-eyed attendant. Prompto threw their things in the trunk and dove into the passenger’s seat. Noctis was still breathing deeply in and out as Ignis buckled his belt for him.

Gladiolus slammed the door shut and started the engine. “And time!” he shouted. He stopped the time on his watch and withdrew his small notebook to document their record. Their hormones were up in arms, lending a smoky, if acrid, smell to the Regalia’s cabin. Everyone was in the proper place. Prompto was beside him in the passenger’s seat. Noctis was in the back with Ignis. His bags were in the trunk and the engine purred in the parking spot near the underground garage door.

“Nearly ten minutes, guys,” Gladiolus said with great dissatisfaction. “We need to shave a few minutes off. Back to your positions, everyone.”

“Again?” Prompto wailed.

“You know I will be in labor, right? I may be a bit distracted when it come to the real thing,” Noctis said. He leaned between the two front seats, making his prickliness known. He couldn’t help it. Even simulating the run to the hospital got his hormones all in arears.

“I know that. Why do you think we’re practicing?” Gladiolus grunted. “Out of the car, guys.”

“No, you’re not listening,” Noctis said. “I’ll be in labor pains during the real thing. I won’t be moving as quickly as I am now.” They gathered near the elevator.

“Which makes it all the more important to build up that muscle memory for when you _are_ feeling it,” Gladiolus replied. He pressed the button for their suite and they glided up.

“You make it sound like training for the battlefield,” Noctis said.

Gladiolus pinched his brow and shut off the Regalia. “Isn’t it?” He grasped Noctis’ shoulder. “Every minute counts. The faster we can get you out of the Citadel, Noctis, the faster we get to the hospital.” His gaze met Noctis’. “I don’t want to take any chances.”

“Nothing will happen this time, Gladio. We’re so far along. The roads are clearer than they were last time, and the nurses are all ready to take Noct in right away,” Prompto argued.

“Unless it’s rush hour,” Gladiolus countered. “Then we’ll be glad to have the extra time.” Noctis’ stomach rumbled, making their debate stop in its tracks.

“Now, now,” Ignis interjected, removing his gloves. “I think hunger is making us bare our teeth. I think a little dinner is what we need right now.”

“Make that _a lot_ of dinner,” Noctis said.

“Yeah, baby’s hungry,” Prompto said. “And our other baby too!”

They spilled into the penthouse. Gladiolus’ eyes glanced at Noctis’ protruding stomach. He glanced at the pack. It had been a full day of tying up loose ends and preparing for the baby’s arrival. To think that they were somehow _more_ productive during Noctis’ pregnancy. “I suppose you’ve all earned a little break,” he conceded.

“Thank the Six,” Prompto said. He yawned. “I’m sick of running around.”

 “Yeah, this definitely reminds me of my combat training, Gladio,” Noctis said. He plopped down on the couch.

“And now you’re the greatest swordsman in Lucis.” Gladiolus kissed him on the forehead. “You’re welcome. After a couple more runs, we’ll get out time down to eight minutes.”

“A couple?” Prompto said. “We’ve had so many meetings today, though! We need some shut-eye.”

Ignis nodded. “I can sympathize, Prompto. However, that may be true on the day of our pup’s arrival as well. ” He grasped Gladiolus’ shoulder and leaned in. “There’s value to this exercise. No such thing as over-prepared.”

“Then I get to choose what we eat,” Noctis said. “For motivation, of course.”

Prompto grabbed a blanket and wrapped them up tight.

Ignis felt for the bowl for the room name raffle. “Let’s pick our places for the next drill and then I’ll make whatever you desire, Noct.”

Noctis reached into the bowl first. He really could be anywhere when his dilations began, so at least Gladiolus planned partially for the unexpected. “I’ll be on the balcony this time. Gazing at the stars.”

“Bathroom in the shower?” Prompto said. “Does that mean I have to get naked and pretend I’m actually showering?”

Gladiolus nodded and Prompto clapped himself on the forehead. “What? You like it when I ask you to get naked, Prompto. What’s the point of the drills if we aren’t fully investing ourselves in it?”

“Yeah, I guess…usually something good follows when you ask us to get naked, though,” Prompto whined.

“Cut down our time and I may reward you,” Gladiolus teased.

Ignis felt the card. Gladiolus had used a 3D pen to write in braille. “I’ll be in the library,” Ignis said, “burying myself in a good book. That’s dangerous.”

Gladiolus was the last to reach in. “And I’ll be in our armory.”

“Just a second,” Noctis said, sitting up slowly. His pack eyed him warily. He could feel their heartrate increase. Gladiolus’ fight hormones spiked. Before Gladiolus could sweep Noctis up in his arms, he calmed them all down. “I-I’m not going into labor now!” Noctis chuckled. “Something just occurred to me.”

“You really had me there for a moment,” Gladiolus said. “What is it?”

“What if we aren’t home when I go into labor?”

“Don’t give Gladio any ideas!” Prompto yelped. “We can’t be running drills all throughout the Citadel at this time of night.”

“That thought crossed my mind too.” Gladiolus crossed his arms and was deep in thought. “I’ve reached the conclusion that there are only so many variables we can plan for,” he said with a wry grin. “But when we can, we plan.”

“Practice makes perfect,” Ignis said with a soft, knowing smile.

 

*  *  *  *  *

 

The clouds drooped like pools of ink in the sky, as if at any moment they would cave in and ooze onto the blighted landscape. Gladiolus and Ignis got a call about a pair of missing Hunters while they were passing through the region. They kept off the road and in the shadows, moving along slowly and deliberately. The daemons and things that go bump in the night knew to look for humans there.

When Gladiolus saw the flare and Ignis heard its crackle, they knew they had found their survivors. Stray hunters and Kingsglaive warriors kept finding their way to that abandoned Imperial base. In desperate times, the false promise of salvage or shelter was all it took to lure them to an early grave.

“Poor rookies,” Gladiolus murmured.

The bases of the now-defunct Niflheim Empire were a breeding pool for daemonic activity. Whether it was the remains of magitek cores, or the lingering curse of Besithia’s calamitous research, no one could tell for sure. All they knew is that the site was strictly off-limits.

Gladiolus hoped it wouldn’t rain. They’d really be screwed then. The water would bring the miasmic particles to the earth, creating pools of writhing Starscourge.

They hid themselves against a rocky crag. Ignis reported into the Kingsglaive base at Lestallum while Gladiolus scanned the keep with night-vision binoculars.

“Yes, they ignored our warning signs, over.” Ignis paused to listen. “We do not have a visual on the hunters. Send power through the old channels, Holly. With hope, this will be a typical extraction operation, over.”

After vaulting over the crumbling concrete and through ventilation chambers, Gladiolus and Ignis soon encountered the trapped hunters. The Alpha and omega duo were young and clearly inexperienced. The latter had a nasty gash on her leg, which was poorly bandaged. The Alpha shook as he watched Ignis undo his shoddy bandaging and dress the omega’s leg properly.

“What are your names?” Ignis asked.

The omega winced. “Morris,” she said. “This is my partner, Louis. Thank the Six you saw our flare.”

Gladiolus checked his watch. It was nearly eight o’clock at night, not that it mattered much now. It could have been eight o’clock in the morning and have been just as gloomy. Nine years after Noctis’ disappearance meant the light had all but retreated, except for the light they made themselves.

“What’s the ETA on the power, over?” Gladiolus asked over the radio.

“Should be getting some volts our way within fifteen,” Holly said. “We can’t spare a ton of power, so you’ll need to move quickly if you want to get out of that base. Over.”

Gladiolus peaked out the window, staying out of sight. No daemons yet, but that could change at the drop of a hat.

“Will we be safe here overnight? The lights can keep them at bay. We’ll be able to get some rest,” Morris murmured. She winced as Ignis disinfected the gash.

“No,” Gladiolus answered from the window. “The light will give us an opening to make an exit. Nothing more. We can’t afford to send that much power to a dead outpost.”

“But _we’re_ here!” the Alpha hunter said. “They know there are survivors here, don’t they? They can’t abandon us like this.”

“Maintaining power overnight would mean endangering other populated settlements and taking their grids offline,” Ignis said. “Staying is not an option. In a war of attrition, numbers and trade-offs are everything, I’m afraid.”

“So we have to go back out there?” Louis exclaimed. “That’s suicide, we’ll be eaten alive!”

“Louis, you’re scaring me!” Morris whimpered from the ground.

“It’s true!”

Gladiolus stood his ground, getting toe-to-toe with the panicking Alpha. “It is better to be out in the open than confined indoors. We have a truck waiting that will take us to the Cauthess Depot,” Gladiolus said. “We’ll be able to fend off the daemons more easily outdoors.”

“No way I’m going back out there,” Louis said. “Look what happened to Marie! Now it’s getting even darker. We’re safer in here.”

Gladiolus put his foot down. “Wrong. We put up warning signs around the vicinity for a reason and you ignored them. A dozen hunters did exactly what you two did. When they went to find salvage, they only found death,” he said through gritted teeth. “Do not argue with our plan. We know what we are doing. Your only shot is with us.”

“Gladio, that’s enough. There’s no point in frightening them. Panic will only make things worse,” Ignis said.

“They need to understand their circumstances, Iggy,” Gladiolus said. “Coddling them and telling sweet lies will get them nowhere.”

“Oh, what do you guys know?” The Alpha hunter shouted. “You’re just washed-up royal retainers. You couldn’t even find Prince Noctis. He was the center of your whole lives and you blew it! What the hell do you know about finding supplies? Our families have been living off the land and salvage for way longer than you two!  While all of you were living it up in cushy Insomnia, behind your stupid barrier, our families were making their livings with their own hands.” He crossed his arms defiantly and plopped down net to Marie. “We’re staying.”

“Louis! They’re just trying to help us,” Marie hissed.

Gladiolus grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, lifting him to his feet. “Watch what you say, hunter. Noctis Lucis Caelum has trained all of his life to bring light and salvation to the world. Wherever he is now, I have no doubt that it’s for the benefit of the people of Lucis,” he growled. “While you were struggling with saberclaws, he was cutting down daemons and crushing Imperial mechs. No matter how hard things got, or how much he’s suffered, Noct stood tall and pushed onward all in the name of defeating the Empire. Don’t you dare forget that.”

Ignis stepped between them, pushing the two Alphas apart. “That’s enough! Gladio, we have to stick to our time table or none of us will live to see Noct return.” Gladiolus winced. Hearing his nickname was too much.

The hunter’s face crumpled in his hands. “You sound so sure of that, and I can’t blame you two for hoping—for wishing.” He grasped the Morris’ hand and knelt beside her. “I have a pregnant omega to look out for. I can’t make any more stupid mistakes.” He knelt down near the other hunter.

“Louis!” Morris gasped. “Y-you know?”

“Why do you think I asked you to stay at camp? I told you it was too risky.”

“I didn’t want you to go alone, Louis,” the Morris whimpered. “Without you I’d…I’d…”

“He gives you hope. That’s good,” Gladiolus conceded. “Hope is what is getting these ‘washed-up retainers’ through the long night.” His face softened as he reached out to help the couple to their feet. “If you want to feel that hope tomorrow, you will listen to what me and my partner have to say, understand?”

“W-what do you need us to do?” Morris asked as her Alpha supported her.

“Fortunately, we won’t be improvising. We’ve done this several times,” Ignis said. The light flickered on outside, rejoined by a chorus of daemonic cries. “It’s true that many before you have met their end here…”

“But many more have made it out thanks to us,” Gladiolus said. “The power won’t last forever. Time to move.”

Ignis made his way to the door, pressing his ear to the cold metal. He listened deeply, noting each and every inkling of daemonic activity. “Several imps have spawned down the northern wing along with a lich—nothing serious, but they never come alone.” A low rumble sounded in the distance, like fire crackling. “Right on cue. A pair of psychomancers. As long as we keep quiet and keep moving, we will be able to avoid clashing with them,” he reported.

“We keep to the southern corridor of the facility,” Gladiolus recalled, “then we go down a flight of stairs and through the command center.”

“And if daemons appear there…”

“We cut through the firing range and climb through the ventilation tents. From there we cut through the armory, with the ventilation shafts as a back-up.”

Ignis smiled and Gladiolus squeezed his hand. Outside the floodlights burst, casting long, willowy shadows across the tarmac and the graveyard of rusted-out mechs. The daemons howled in pain as they surged in rage towards the source of light. Louis and Morris gasped at the sight, but Gladiolus anchored them, bringing them towards the door.

“Let’s go," Gladiolus ordered. “On my mark.”

 

*  *  *  *  *

 

Noctis reclined in a vast pile of blankets and pillows in the corner of the living room. Gladiolus was in the kitchen doing dishes while Ignis sat on a stool near the nest, fingers running through Noctis’ hair. Prompto lay beside Noctis, doing some last-minute photo-editing on his tablet.

Gladiolus traipsed in and tucked himself between his packmates. The nest was soothing and warm. The layers retained the nuanced scent of his Alphas.  Every pillow in the living room had gone toward the effort, as well as their guest linens and towels. Noctis gathered up his Alphas, and they rested in quiet contentment.

“Knew we’d get that time down,” Gladiolus said languidly. “Seven minutes, twelve seconds.”

“Under ideal conditions, in any case,” Ignis added.

Noctis felt the baby kicking. “I have a feeling I’ll go into labor when we least expect it. Feel how energetic the baby is?”

Gladiolus leaned over on one elbow, placing his ear against Noctis’ tummy. “They’re gonna be a real spitfire, alright.”

“I can hear it, if I concentrate,” Ignis said. “Amazing how quickly time has passed. It seems like only yesterday we were making our announcement to the kingdom.”

“For sure. Before we know it, they’ll be in school,” Prompto said. “Making friends, getting in scuffles…”

“And asking us to help them with their homework,” Ignis said.

“Then asking where babies come from,” Prompto chuckled.

“And asking us to tell them stories about the day they were born,” Noctis said. “Hopefully it won’t be too exhilarating.”

Gladiolus chuckled. “We can tell them how efficiently we got you to the hospital. And how my training sessions got us there in record time.”

“Or about the hiccups we had along the way,” Ignis said. “No telling how we’ll all feel in the moment. Once the nerves kick in, who knows what we’ll forget.”

“I hear that. I decided to just leave the bags in the Regalia,” Prompto said. “I wouldn’t want to drop the ball and forget them.”

Gladiolus chuckled and nuzzled Prompto. “That’s good thinking.”

Noctis was drowsy from the day’s proceedings. He was warm and the world was fuzzy and quiet and comforting. He gazed at the glinting stars outside their floor-to-ceiling windows. “It’s so weird to think that nighttime will be…normal for our child,” he idly murmured as he held a pillow tight. “You guys ever think about that?”

“It’s crossed my mind once or twice,” Gladiolus said. “It’s what we sacrificed so much for. Now they won’t struggle with the darkness like we did. They might not even _know_ even.”

“I think they’ll find out quickly—that the night used to be a _big_ thing, I mean,” Prompto said.

“What makes you say that?” Ignis asked.

Prompto’s mouth screwed up really small, a tell-tale sign that he was choosing his words wisely. “I mean that we’ll still be rebuilding, won’t we? Things will be more normal by the time they’re walking and talking, but they’re gonna grow up wondering what happened. Why there are crumbling buildings. Why the train tracks don’t match the maps. Why we have the memorial service every year.”

“They won’t wonder. It’s all already in the school curriculum: the long war with Niflheim, The World of Ruin, retaking the throne. Everything,” Noctis said, eyes still on the stars.

“That is true,” Prompto said. “It’s weird that they’ll learn about us in history class. They’ll be like, ‘that’s not history, those are my _dads_.’”

“Yes, and in their teens they’ll say, ‘Yeah, those are my old men. Ancient history,’” Ignis chuckled.

Noctis bit his lip and rubbed his stomach. “They’ll learn about their grandparents too…and wonder what happened to them.”

“Noct…” Gladiolus said. He squeezed Noctis’ hand beneath the blanket.

“I know there are a lot of painful memories we’ll have to share,” Noctis said. “Not everything right away, but when the time is right. I don’t want our pup to learn about their parents from a stack of books, you know?” He spread his arms out wide, embracing his three Alphas the best he could. “It’s best our pup hear it from us.”

“I agree,” Ignis said. “It…will be difficult, but it will be important for them to know, as heir. And as our child.”

“Yeah. It will be our responsibility,” Gladiolus murmured. He wiped his eye, thinking about Clarus and the day Insomnia fell. A tear almost fell but his loss was tempered by images of the future: their child at the Long Night Memorial, reading their first picture book about the Astrals, them tip-toeing around rubble that had long since settled and overgrew with ivy.

Noctis buried his face underneath the blanket. He wasn’t sure what to say. He saw the round protrusion of his stomach. Like trails of fighter jets, scars and marks streaked back and forth, some from battle, some from accepting his ancestors’ power, and some from pregnancy. He looked over and saw another streaking across Prompto’s rib cage. Claw marks marred Gladiolus’ thigh. When Ignis reached under the cover to stroke Noctis’ hair, his forearms were littered with faint marks.

He wiped his eyes and emerged. His three Alphas waited in anticipation, gathering closely around him, sensing his distress.

“I know you all went through so much during the long night. Sometimes, late at night, I wake up and I can’t get back to sleep. I lie awake thinking about all the stories you guys told me about your lives during the World of Ruin—when you were all doing the best you could to survive while I was away for ten long years.” He wiped his eyes. “I lie awake because I know those stories are just the tip of the iceberg: that what you all suffered is far more than I currently know.” He wiped his eyes with the blanket and continued, voice shaking. “And…I wouldn’t ask you to re-open any hidden wounds, but it would mean a lot to me if our pup heard them, when they’re ready. When you are all ready, I mean. Is that weird? Am I crossing a line?”

The pack fell silent for a moment, each ruminating on their struggles encountered on their own and side-by-side.

Ignis was the first to speak. “I didn’t want to burden you. It’s true that those years were the hardest of my life, but all things considered, we made it out quite admirably. That we’re here together is what matters most to me. I love you all.”

Noctis nodded and smiled. “Yeah, that’s what matters most to me too.”

“Same here. I felt like it wasn’t the right time yet—even though it’s been a few years since the light returned to Lucis. If you want to hear some more…I’ll let you know when I’m up for it. Sound good?” Prompto said. He rubbed Noctis’ back.

“Even if they’re unhappy times, it will underscore our strength as a pack. Ten years and seemingly endless darkness can’t get between us,” Gladiolus said.

Noctis breathed a sigh of relief. He snuggled between his Alphas, counting the stars and his blessings. Despite the trials and battles, here they all were, safe and sound.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major hurt-comfort (see tags) and then the moment you've all been waiting for!

Ignis collapsed onto their makeshift bed at the Hammerhead diner, tired to the marrow. The mattress was situated between two cushioned booth seats, snugly fit, creating almost enough space for the three of them.

The stench of blood lingered in his nose. His pompadour had long since disintegrated. Miasma clung to his boots. He removed his tinted glasses and covered his eyes. He did his best to wash himself after the battle of miasma and blood. They didn’t have much fresh water to spare.

The wind howled outside, covering up the harried activity outside. Beneath the screech of the wind, he could make out Talcott’s voice. Something about Galdin Quay, but he was too distracted and world-weary to listen. The mattress sank near his feet and he smelled Prompto’s musk. He crawled up and enveloped Ignis in his arms, who acquiesced to the comforting presence of his fellow Alpha.

“How’re you holding up?” Prompto asked softly.

Ignis sniffed, wiping his eyes with a dirty rag. It wasn’t like the soiled rag would do anymore harm to his eyes anyway. He said nothing. His hands trembled as he pulled Prompto closer. Prompto massaged the back of his neck as Ignis held back his tears.

“I…I couldn’t do anything,” Ignis said between deep, controlled breaths.

“It’s not your fault,” Prompto said. Prompto smelled of motor oil and grease. His hands were rough and bony like the rest of him, but Ignis couldn’t pull himself close enough. He also smelled of soil and earth and, if he concentrated, of _him_.

“You did what you could for him. That’s all that matters.”

“They won’t ever walk again. He had just started out as a Kingsglaive..and I failed him.”

“They’re still _alive_ , Iggy,” Prompto insisted. “They wouldn’t have made it out at all if you weren’t there. No one but you could've taken all those liches on.”

Ignis gave in. It was all too much. Ten years ago today, everything of his omega vanished: his smile, his scent, his quiet expressions, and soft touches. He knew all three of them felt it. When Gladiolus entered the darkened diner, he knew the thought weighed heavily on him as well. Ten long years.

Gladiolus collapsed at the end of the bare mattress, rubbing the back of his neck with a hot wash cloth. Ignis unfurled himself and sat up. “Tell me,” Ignis commanded.

Even in the shadows, Gladiolus could see the frustration well up behind Ignis’ calm façade. Prompto shook his head over Ignis’ shoulder, but Gladiolus couldn’t ignore Ignis' request. He knew it would be crueler to keep him in the dark, to deprive him of clarity.

“The doctor prevented the Starscourge from spreading up his leg. I held him down during the...operation,” he said softly. “He was real brave. Made it through without any potions. It didn't take long. He's resting now.”

“Oh Six…” Prompto gasped.

“How is the wound?” Ignis asked stoically.

“Looks Starscourge free. Doctors are dressing the…the remaining part of the limb and monitoring closely. The rest only time will tell. He's alive though. We have to count our blessings.” Gladiolus kept his eyes on the front door, head low from stress and weariness, dreading to see the doctor come through with bad news. 

Ignis sniffed and held himself back. He leaned back on the mattress and covered his eyes once more. Gladiolus and Prompto joined him, embracing him from either side.

“I’m…I’m so tired,” Ignis said.  "Ten years..." He felt a burden lift form his shoulders. It floated up and lingered over his packmates. He regretted it as soon as he said it. Gladiolus grabbed one his hands and held it against his chest.

“Ten years is a long time, but we get to be tired together, don't we?” Gladiolus murmured.

“Get some sleep, Iggy. I’ll handle anything that comes up, okay?” Prompto said.

“…All right.”

 

*  *  *  *  *

 

The three slept like the dead that night, huddled in a tightly knit pile in the Hammerhead Diner, their weapons within arm’s reach.

Ignis stirred. He slowly rose in bed, amidst the quiet protestations of Prompto and Gladiolus. A familiar scent drew him towards the door. He inched to the end of the mattress, toeing on his loafers and walking, as if in a trance, to the glass door. His skin burned. He wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. He stepped outside.

“What is it, Iggy?” Prompto asked, winking awake.

Gladiolus was already alert, hand on the hilt of his great sword. “Hey, wait! Don’t go out alone!" he hissed.

Ignis followed the familiar scent. He couldn't get enough of it. Miles away from where Ignis stood, a fertile gust blew up from the bay at Galdin Quay, up over the dismal, abandoned roads, through the hills and crags and down into the desert, whipping Ignis' hair from his brow. He walked up to the chain link fence, clinging to it until it stung his palms. He breathed in the air and recognized a sweet odor that had long lingered in the back of his mind.

Prompto and Gladiolus were behind him, hands grasping Ignis’ as they removed them from the chain link fence.

“Ignis, what’s wrong?” Gladiolus said. "Talk to me."

“Ten long years,” he said softly. The wind picked up. He reached out to his fellow packmates, and brought them close. "All this time we've waited, and finally, the day has come."

“What are you talking about?” Prompto said, fear rising in his voice.

“He’s here. I can feel him. Just wait. You’ll catch his scent too.”

Gladiolus’ eyes widened, and he too pressed himself against the chain link fence, breathing in the bittersweet air. “W-what?” he gasped. "I can't be!"

“He’s—he’s really here,” Prompto choked out. "I can't believe it!"

 

*  *  *  *  *

 

Noctis shot up in bed. He checked the clock. It was two in the morning. He held his stomach, breathing deeply in and out. He shook the first Alpha he could get his hands on. “Wake up! Wake Up!” he hissed. The contractions shot through his lower abdomen. Prompto wearily rose up, then clarity struck him like a rod.

“Crap! It’s happening!” Prompto yelped. The other two Alphas were roused immediately. Prompto got caught in the covers and nearly toppled off the bed. Ignis moved swiftly in the dark. He flicked on the lights for his sighted companions. Noctis would have burst out laughing were it not for the consistent pressure of the contractions. His Alphas darted back and forth, getting dressed. Gladiolus draped a robe around Noctis’ shoulders.

“Don’t panic! No panicking necessary! Remember what we practiced?” Gladiolus barked.

“Right, right!” Prompto said, darting uselessly from corner to corner. “Okay, what was my list of things…crap, drawing a blank! What was I supposed to get?” Prompto shrilled. “I can’t believe it! I can't remember”

“We did eight run-throughs of this only a few hours ago!” Gladiolus barked. “How could you have forgotten already?”

Ignis shut the bathroom door, his calm and even voice informing the hospital of their impending arrival.

“It may be a few minutes. Yes, the whole plan has evaporated from their heads, just like you said. Thank you, Dr. Benefica. See you all soon.” Ignis leaned out the door as he buttoned his shirt. “You left Noctis’ things in the Regalia, Prompto." He pointed a finger at Gladiolus. "You were supposed to have called the garage and grounds staff already, Gladio.”

“I-I was just about to do that!” Gladiolus said, cellphone cradled between his shoulder and jaw as he helped Noctis out of bed. “Hello, operator?”

Noctis watched his Alphas dart to and fro. He breathed in calmly and evenly. He counted the minutes between contractions. They were still widely spaced apart. He grabbed onto Gladiolus as he helped him to his feet. Prompto finally got his act together, pulling the wheel chair from the foyer and helping Noctis into it.

Noctis looked up at his Alphas as they wheeled him through their suite. They were focused, yet jittery. He could sense they were fight or flight mode. They wheeled him into the elevator. The stars glinted in the sky, as if they too knew what was about to transpire. Noctis took a deep breath and gulped. He thought it may have been the speed of the elevator, but suddenly he could breathe a lot more deeply. He felt pressure building down below.  He curled up. The pain of contractions and movement swept through him, but did his best to remain calm.

“G-good thing we all practiced, huh?” Noctis chuckled.

“Believe you me, Noct,” Ignis said. “It would’ve been a lot worse if we hadn’t.”

Gladiolus kept and eye on his watch. “We aren’t doing too bad, actually.”

“Now’s not the time for that, Gladio!” Prompto yelled. He leaned over and stroked Noctis’ cheek. “We’re gonna get you there in no time, Noct.”

“The door’s open!” Noctis said. They pushed him out to the car, gingerly placing him in the front seat. Prompto took the wheel and flipped on the headlights. The purr of the engine was somehow soothing. The garage door rumbled open. Blue and red lights flashed left and right. The Crownsguard entourage was at the ready, rerouting traffic and maintaining a clear path to the hospital.

“How many drills did you run with the Crownsguard?” Prompto marveled.

“We’ve had it down since we learned Noct was pregnant,” Gladiolus boasted.

“And you left our practice runs for the night prior?” Ignis asked, cocking an eyebrow

“How was I supposed to know he would go into labor tonight?”

“I should have calendared it for another day, apparently,” Noctis added between breaths.

Noctis breathed a sigh of relief. All he had to do was wait as the stars and streetlights sped on by. Peaking only faintly through the light pollution and the sky scrapers was the Nox Fleuret Cluster. He rubbed his stomach.

Ignis grasped his shoulders, massaging them gingerly. “You’re doing good on the breathing. Just like we all practiced.”

“Thanks,” Noctis said. He winced as more pressure built up down below.

Prompto navigated ably. “You sorta had good timing in a way. Practically no traffic at this time of night.”

“Thanks. I definitely planned to start going into labor at two in the morning,” Noctis replied.

In no time, the hospital sped into view. A few nurses were waiting by the entrance, wheel chair at the ready. They were met at the front desk with a stack of papers. Gladiolus sneered. “We’ll do them later.”

“Yes, we’re going with our omega to the ward,” Ignis said. “Get us smocks,” he said, removing his shoes to replace them with sterile slippers.

“I’ll need the biggest ones you got,” Gladiolus said.

“How tall are you?” the nurse asked, looking up.

“198 centimeters.”

“It will be a tight fit, just so you know,” the nurse said.

He placed a hand on Noctis’ shoulder. “Sorry in advance.”

“For what?”

“For how big that pup’s likely to be.”

“That’s reassuring,” Noctis groaned as he was wheeled through the hallway. “It feels like it’s coming! Hurry!”

 

*  *  *  *  *

 

Noctis lay weary and drenched in sweat. He had been on the verge for many hours. The light was rosy and pink on the horizon. It was nearly dawn. His Alphas stood watching expectantly in the corner while the doctor and nurses attended to his every need.

“Prompto! Don’t take any more pictures!” Noctis yelled from the hospital bed.

“You’ll regret it later if I don’t! Besides, this is hardly your least flattering photo,” Prompto said.

Gladiolus took his head under his arm. “Not now, Prompto!”

“Guys, calm down,” Ignis said, prying them apart. “Or else we’ll be asked to leave!”

Something hitched in Noctis’ throat. It felt as if they turned a corner.

“It’s crowning!” the nurse said with delight.

“Don’t force it. Don’t push,” the doctor advised. “Just focus on your breathing. Your body will naturally accommodate. You’re doing great.”

Noctis craned his neck and collapsed back on to the pillow. He squinted his eyes shut, blocking out the pain. He had battled daemons and beasts, mechs, and elite soldiers. Nothing he faced then could have prepared him for this moment. He withstood it in silence.

“You got this, babe,” Prompto said. Suddenly, Noctis heard the shutter of Prompto’s camera close rapidly in quick succession. Before the other Alphas could chime in, they heard a sharp squawk pierce the room.

Noctis’ eyes widened. The pack fell silent, letting the cries ring against their eardrums.

The nurses worked in tandem, gently easing out the baby. Gladiolus covered his mouth with both hands in disbelief. Ignis leaned against him while Prompto paced eagerly back and forth with his camera.

“You’re doing great,” the doctor said. “Just keep at it, we’re almost there.”

Noctis attempted to relax. His breathing was deep, but getting easier as his ribcage expanded.

Adrenaline pumped through his veins. His heartbeat ramped up. Between the newborn crying, his Alphas beaming and smiling and doting, and the fact the sun, at that very moment, decided to shine directly into his eyes, it was all too much to handle.

It seemed simultaneously like hours and the blink of an eye, but soon the cry resonated not in his bones, but externally altogether. Noctis wept new tears, not from the pain of labor but the affirmation of life. The nurse quickly transferred the pink newborn to a bassinet for cleaning.

“We will be right back, don’t you worry,” the nurse said.

Noctis gazed through the transparent sides. The child shook and cried while the remains of the umbilical cord was knotted neatly. “O-okay,” he replied wearily.

The rest of the process was a happy blur. He was utterly drained. He reached out and his Alphas grasped his hands and talked over one another, their words an excited rush of relief and joy.

“How are you doing, my love?” Ignis asked.

“So tired,” Noctis said.

“You did great,” Gladiolus said. “You never faltered in your breathing. That’s the disciplined king I love.”

“Do you want anything? Water? Crackers?” Prompto asked.

“I’m good, thanks,” Noctis replied. “I just need some rest.” Noctis leaned back and shut his eyes for only a moment, but when he awakened, it was late-morning. He looked about the room, wincing as he felt the new flatness of his stomach. Ignis sat in the armchair near the bed.

“You must be hungry,” he said fondly. He rolled his stool over to Noctis’ bedside.

A radio chatted on in the corner. “We’ve just received word that King Noctis Lucis Caelum delivered his child at approximately seven o’clock this morning. Already, citizens of Insomnia are celebrating in the streets as…”

“Where…?” Noctis murmured. “Where is…?”

“They’re on their way. They’re just getting measured and weighed.” Ignis said. His smile was radiant. “Y-you did it, Noct.”

Not a moment later and Gladiolus was leading Prompto through the door, with a beaming nurse in tow. She carefully strolled to his bedside. Noctis summoned his strength and sat up in bed. He reached out toward the warm bundle. He instinctively knew they were connected. He felt it in his chest. His Alphas crowded in around him as he took the babe in his arms and brought it close to his chest. “My sweet child,” he whispered. He uncovered the babe’s head, revealing a tuft of honey-brown hair.

“Hey there,” he said. “I was wondering when I’d see you.” The baby’s eyes were closed.

 “Hi,” Prompto said fondly. “Who’s this? You were such a pleasant surprise, yes you were.”

“They’re beautiful,” Gladiolus said. Ignis leaned forward. The baby’s hand shot out, grasping his knuckle.  “You got papa’s finger. Such a strong grip.”

Prompto hopped away. In a flash, he set up his tripod, not wanting to miss a moment snuggling with his pack and their new additions.

“Everyone, look at the camera.” Everyone happily ignored him, wrapped up in adoring the young heir. Prompto captured several shots anyway. Dashing back to the bedside to join his family.

 

*  *  *  *  *

 

They scarcely left the room all day. From time to time, one would get a call and field it in the hallway. Noctis barely took notice as he was focused solely on the baby in his arms.

His whole body ached and throbbed. This had exhausted him more than anything in his entire life, more than his wild heats, infiltrating Niflheim’s military bases, and even the extended tedium of exploring the Pitioss Ruins. Dr. Benefica had given him extensive literature about the postpartum period. Reading something was truly different than living it. Indeed, reclining in his bed, with a little angel sleeping soundly against his chest, was truly different than anything he had read in preparation for this moment.

A soft knock sounded at the door and Dr. Benefica’s cane peaked through the opening. She tip-toed softly through the room.

“Congratulations, my king,” she said with a soft smile. She opened her folder and placed a pen near his bedside.

“Thank you, doctor,” Noctis replied. “For everything.”

Prompto peaked at the paperwork. “Oh! That’s their birth certificate,” he quickly snapped a picture. “Here’s the big moment!”

“A historical moment,” Ignis mused, "the naming of the first heir to the Era of Light. They will be the first Lucian King not to know the Starscourge and the wrath of daemons.”

Gladiolus took the baby gently in his arms. He rocked slowly back and forth. Noctis chuckled. The baby looked impossibly small compared to the muscled mountain.

“Does everyone feel good about what we discussed?” Noctis asked the group. “Last chance.” His pack smiled, giving their blessings as Noctis took up the pen and certificate. He wrote down the name and held it to his breast. His eyes watered, imprinting this moment in his memory.

“That was quick,” Dr. Benefica said with a soft chuckle. “I’ve seen other parents take days to decide on a name.”

“We all thought it would be better to decide beforehand,” Prompto said.

“It was the night we all knew I was with child again, in fact,” Noctis said. Ignis and Prompto gathered to gaze at the baby in Gladiolus’ arms. Beyond his wildest dreams, he never thought he’d see this moment. He handed Dr. Benefica the certificate who examined it carefully.

“I see. ‘Stellus Lucis Caelum.’ Simply beautiful. May I ask the significance?”

“All our lives we’ve been working for the sake of our star, Eos. And after we bonded together as a pack, we knew we were fighting for more than that: we were fighting for our pup too. It seemed pretty open and shut to me,” Noctis said with a smile.

“Here, here!” Ignis said.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is late! I wrote and re-wrote this section a couple times. This may surprise you, but pure fluff isn't my strong suit. Regardless, I hope you enjoy!

 

They expected an early morning retreat back to the Citadel would afford them some privacy. Noctis’ body still lurched and sagged beneath from the monumental effort of childbirth. A quiet return to their abode was what he desired most, but as he was wheeled out of the hospital, a crowd of denizens and reporters flooded the sidewalks outside.

“Someone must have talked,” Ignis said with indignation.

“I thought we’d have a few weeks to get camera-ready,” Prompto said. “I told them that we would be available in, like, _two months._ ”

Gladiolus stomped ahead. His Alpha territoriality pulsed through his veins. A handful of people bowed out and walked off, but more reporters and “OI! We just want a quiet return home. No photographs, no interviews!” he boomed. “Clear out!”

Stellus whined and shifted in his bundle, and Noctis held him close to his chest. “Not so loud, Gladio.” His Shield trudged on, making a route to the waiting Regalia. A photographer readied a flashbulb. Gladiolus snatched it from the Alpha’s hands, and leered down at them. “I said no photos. Treat the King with some decency. He’s not some gossip-rag idol.” The Alpha withered beneath his gaze, apologized, and returned to the news van.

Leading the charge, Gladiolus quickly took to the driver’s seat and cautiously accelerated off.

“The disregard,” Gladiolus huffed. “Not with my pack, no sir.”

Ignis stroked the back of his neck. “Now, now, I think you’ve made our point loud and clear. It’s all over now. They were only excited about our baby. Same as we are.”

“I didn’t have the paparazzi on me when I was born,” Noctis said. “Then again, I was born at the Citadel.” He cradled Stellus and watched the city whiz by. “Our pup is special though,” he said fondly, looking down at the baby.

“Of course he is!” Prompto joined in. He slid to the middle seat besides Noctis. “The pup of the king who banished the Starscourge lends itself to cult status. Must have been a nurse or someone who posted something.”

Gladiolus’ nerves were still in uproar. He drove carefully, but maintained and iron grip on the steering wheel. Left and right, other citizens would stop to wave as the Regalia passed by. “S-sorry, guys. It’s the hormones kicking in. Getting defensive.”

“You need me to drive?” Prompto asked.

Gladiolus shook his head. “I should be fine. Just want to get home as soon as possible.”

Gladiolus’ tension dissipated throughout the journey and after a quick elevator ride they stood at the threshold of their nursery. Gladiolus advanced ahead and threw open the curtains, casting light throughout. Cloth nappies and blankets were folded and stacked on the changing table nearby with soothing wipes and creams bountifully stocked below. The rocking chair was waiting to be occupied and Iris’ hand-crafted stuffed animals seemed to look on in excitement.

Clutching Stellus close to his chest, Noctis walked over to the window. The baby squinted in the bright daylight and Noctis quickly shaded his face. He yawned and Noctis yawned in reply.

“He’s settled down. He really didn’t like the car ride, did he?” Noctis said lovingly.

“Traveling in such a powerful vehicle probably felt incredibly unfamiliar,” Ignis said.

“It was so cute though—how he gasped when we made every turn back home,” Prompto said.

“Well that will be the last car ride for a while,” Gladiolus said. “He needs to get big enough for the car seat.” He stepped over to the bassinet and cleared away space for their pup. He tapped the mobile, and it plaintively chimed out a lullaby.

Noctis sat in the warm rocking chair and sank into its recesses. “So sore.”

“Recline a bit,” Ignis said. “Get some shut-eye when you can. It will soon be in short supply.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Noctis leaned back. Stellus’ weight shifted further up his chest, filling Noctis’ heart with warmth. Ignis draped a blanket over the two of them. Before they were tucked in, they were both sound asleep.

 

*  *  *  *  *

 

Noctis blinked awake. No sooner did he get his bearings than he heard Stellus whining down the hall, his tiny voice somehow carrying down the corridor and over their threshold. As quickly as his aching body could manage, Noctis untangled himself from the pile of Alphas and slipped into his robe. Stellus began crying in earnest as he entered the hall.

“Don’t worry, I’m on my way,” Noctis called back.

He pushed the door open and took the baby up in his arms and sat in the rocking chair. He held the baby to his chest and Stellus quieted down as he latched onto him.

“There, there,” he whispered softly. He swept Stellus’ downy hair from his forehead. He looked about the room. So many supplies, yet so few signs of life. After Stellus settled, Noctis crept back into bed.

Around two in the morning, Noctis awoke once more to Stellus’ tiny whines. A second time Noctis sat and nursed the baby and a second time the room looked empty and lonesome. “Shh, shh. It’s okay. Papa’s here. You’re just a little hungry, aren’t you?”

The third time, the walk to the nursery from their bedroom began to get to him. Stellus was so far away and all alone in that isolated nursery. No wonder he cried out so. A lump rose in Noctis’ throat as he changed Stellus and discarded the tiny diaper. “You feel all alone in here, don’t you?” He took Stellus in his arms, whimpering and whining, and crept back to the master bedroom.

He shook Gladiolus’ shoulder and pulled off his covers. Before he could stop and think about his words, he blurted out, “He feels lonely, Gladio. It’s his first night here and he feels lonely!”

Gladiolus honey-colored eyes squinted in the moonlight. “What’s going on? Is something wrong?”

“I don’t want him to be all alone. The nursery is too far away. Move it to our bedroom.”

“The whole nursery?”

“The bassinet, Gladio! Please. I don’t want him to sleep on his own like that. He needs us.”

He stood, stretched, and reached down to wake Prompto. “Hey, we have a little task.”

“What is it?”

“Make room for the crib. Stellus is bunking with us,” Gladiolus said.

“’Kay,” Prompto said, not fully understanding as wearily got out of bed.

They followed Noctis to the nursery. With little effort they carried the bassinet back to their bedroom, the mobile tinkling and chiming the whole way down. Once it was on the floor Noctis pulled it closer till it was practically flush with their bed.

“I thought this might happen,” Ignis said as they returned. “It will be a comfort to have him so close.” He pecked Noctis on the cheek as they traipsed by.

“How’s that?” Noctis asked the baby as he lay him in the bassinet. “All your papas will be right here next to you. We’ll never be far away, okay?”

Something clicked when they were all together. Noctis sat at the edge of the bed and fed Stellus, rocking him to and fro and back to sleep. He felt his Alphas around him in contented silence. The four returned to bed, listening to Stellus’ soft breaths as they drifted off to sleep.

Just before daybreak, Stellus woke again. Noctis reached over the side of the bassinet, stroking Stellus’ head.

 

*  *  *  *  *

 

The nursery was bathed in light. He spent the morning in there, watching Prompto and Gladiolus move supplies to the bedroom. “I guess it was only a matter of time,” Noctis said with a smile.

“I should’ve expected this. Some omegas get separation anxiety,” Gladiolus said as he packed a small box. “Makes sense though. Now that we’re all reunited, it’d be painful to see anyone left behind. I’ll try to find more books on it.”

“Do you think the library has anything?” Prompto asked. “I can send in a research order.”

“It would probably be best to ask the hospital for some,” Gladiolus said. “But go ahead. You know how quickly I burn through books.”

“Thanks, guys,” Noctis said. “I know you worked so hard to prepare the nursery, Gladio.”

He smiled big and pecked Noctis on the cheek. “It’s still here. We’re just moving things around, that’s all. Whatever you both need, your Alphas are here to provide.” He gathered up a bundle of boxes in his massive arms. He nuzzled Stellus on his way out the door.

Noctis smiled and winced as he adjusted himself in the armchair. His body ached and throbbed. His world was fuzzy around the edges. Dr. Benefica said that the change in hormonal activity would be dizzying, even trying at times. Still, he maintained a firm, yet gentle grip on Stellus.

He was asleep now, but would need feeding soon. Noctis wore his shirt open, letting the sun warm his chest. Ignis strolled in with some oatmeal and fruit.

“You should get some sleep while you can,” Ignis said.

“I know, but I want to watch him. I can’t keep my eyes off of him,” Noctis replied.

Ignis chuckled. “Noctis Lucis Caelum refusing a nap? What has Eos come to?”

“They say becoming a parent changes everything.”

“Oh, we’ve only just begun,” Ignis mused. “Soon the nursery will extend beyond the threshold and into the whole penthouse. We’ll find bottles and blankets in every nook and cranny.”

“We’ll keep it clean.”

“It’s just part of parenthood. I’m not worried, I’m elated,” Ignis said with a smile. Stellus began to murmur and move. Ignis pulled up a stool and sat beside Noctis.

Noctis hushed the baby and held him to his chest. He opened his shirt and offered a nipple.

“Open wide,” Ignis said, offering a spoonful of oat meal to Noctis.

 

*  *  *  *  *

 

The next few weeks passed so quickly, yet were the longest in the world. They quickly learned that snatching any moments of sleep was a necessity. At all hours, at least one of their pack caught a quick nap as Stellus slept.

Gladiolus would put his feet up, one hand on the bassinet, covering his face with his book. The first little movement was enough to get Gladiolus up and active, tending to their pup as readily as the sun rose in the morning.

Ignis was used to the lack of sleep; years of getting up hours before the rest of his pack was the perfect preparation for these early weeks. However, from time to time, it wasn’t unusual that Ignis called upon Gladiolus to prepare dinner while he caught up on some rest.

As predicted, toys, trinkets, blankets, and bottles quickly littered the whole apartment. Prompto took it upon himself to neaten up, tip-toeing through the heap of blankets and pillows, careful not to disturb his packmates or Stellus. Normally a housekeeper would be around, but Noctis had insisted on their privacy as they all adjusted to the baby’s needs.

Noctis would pass out on the couch or on the mats on the floor, Stellus tucked securely in his arms as he slept. He had a knack for snapping awake the moment the baby breathed in to let loose a needy cry. Ignis noticed how lightly Noctis slept now. Even as King, Noctis was a heavy sleeper, and Ignis was careful not to schedule anything before eight-thirty. Now, however, Noctis was so sensitive to their baby’s every movement. It made him so proud.

The two were inseparable, when Noctis was awake. It felt so natural, yet new, carrying Stellus about the Citadel: through the private garden, the library, the expansive balcony, the halls and corridors. At times, though, he would need to get off his feet and rest his arms, suddenly exhausted.

As his womb and body readjusted, he was at times doubled over with sharp cramps and abrupt weariness. Prompto drove him to the hospital three times, and three times they were reassured that it was all part of the natural post-partum process. Saying it was one thing, experiencing another altogether. Noctis felt uneasy being at the hospital without his pup. He felt uneasy as he showered, or when he would get some sunshine on the balcony, or even if one of his Alphas wandered to a different part of their sizable suite with Stellus as he napped. Always he would rush back to his baby, who in the end was a nourishing presence, despite the lack of sleep childcare engendered.

Theirs was a private little Sanctuary, but he knew it couldn’t last forever. Soon their pup would make his first public appearance, starting the ceaseless swirl of press, photographs, and scrutiny throughout all of Lucis. It pained him to think of it: Stellus as a matter of national attention. For this little time, at least, Stellus could be just any other pup and even that was enough to make the pack’s hearts swell with joy.

These thoughts swirled about his head as Noctis lay on a thick foam mat on the carpet. Nearby the radio chattered on low volume. The royal family was still all over the news. “A new heir, a sign of increasing stability and normalcy for this weathered, but sturdy kingdom. We await eagerly for the first appearances…”

In the study, Ignis hosted a conference call between the council members. Though he was still technically on paternity leave, the rest of the pack let him work without argument. They knew how much Ignis hated being left in the dark.

Using a braided cord, Noctis slowly extended his right leg to the ceiling. A throbbing ache ran the length of his body, leaving him drained and weak. He hissed as he over-extended. To think that even during his pregnancy, a stretch like this was no problem.

“Easy now,” Gladiolus coached him. “The point is just to stretch and get the blood flowing. Take it nice and slow.”

“This is reminding me of physical therapy,” Noctis said.

“It _is_ physical therapy,” Prompto added from the couch, where he cradled Stellus. Noctis winced and lowered his leg.

“You won’t be able to extend it as far as you used to. Not right away,” Gladiolus said. He crouched beside Noctis and eased him onto his front. “Where does it hurt?”

“The right leg, where it used to after the accident,” Noctis said. He waved to Stellus, who watched him with wide, curious eyes.

“Your nodes and joints are all swollen still,” Gladiolus said. “I think that’s enough. We got through more than half of the exercises that the doctors laid out. That should be fine for today.”

“Has the strict Gladiolus Amicitia gone soft?” Prompto said.

“Not a chance. In fact, I’m being strict with myself. The doctor gave me explicit instructions: Noctis has to work at his own pace through the postpartum recovery. Which means plenty of rest.” Gladiolus reached out to Prompto and urged the two of them to the mat. “And lots of cuddling.”

 Noctis flopped on his stomach to gaze at Stellus. The three of them lay on the mat, watching their pup. He was still too young to roll over on his own.

Ignis stepped in and sat cross-legged next to the group, taking up Stellus in his arms. The baby reached up, smudging his tinted lenses. Ignis could only smile.

“Any updates?” Noctis said.

“You’re on paternity leave. I’m not allowed to answer that question,” Ignis joked. He removed his glasses and let Stellus paw at his face. “They are eager for your return, though are encouraging you to get as much rest possible. The new highways are getting built on the horizon as we speak, the power grids are expanding, birth rate is up, Tenebrae is sending another delegation. Mostly though, they were asking after the young heir.” He leaned down and gave Stellus a soft kiss on the forehead.

Noctis slid over beside Ignis. Stellus began to whine. “You must be hungry. It’s been almost two hours, yes it has!” He brought Stellus to his chest as his Alphas gathered closer around him. He was comforted by the soothing warmth of his loving cocoon, but still felt a wave of sadness wash over him as he watched Stellus nurse. It was somehow simpler when he was still pregnant in a way. Now that he was in his arms, Stellus’ status and reality settled in deep and heavy in Noctis’ heart.

“What’s wrong, Noct?” Prompto asked.

“I just want him to be a baby.” Noctis began tearing up and suddenly began feeling heartsick. “He deserves to be a normal—carefree. After he enters the public’s eye, he’ll never escape it. I know.”

“Our public appearance is in two weeks. Are you sure you’ll be ready by then?” Gladiolus said.

Noctis nodded and wiped his nose on his free shoulder. “Listen to me ramble…No, no, I’ll be fine. I’m just getting emotional, just like Dr. Benefica said I would. It’s nothing. Hormones.”

“It’s not nothing,” Gladiolus said. He massaged Noctis’ shoulders.  “I had my fair share of the spotlight as your instructor. Can’t imagine what it was like for you.”

 “I’ve thought the same thing, Noct,” Ignis added. “His life will be different. There’s no changing that. As the heir, he can’t renege on our responsibility to the people of Lucis.” He gripped Noctis’ hand. “People will treat him differently because of that.”

“Makes me feel awkward about looking at you from afar in school,” Prompto mused. “I think the public schooling will help that though! It will make him more down-to-earth. Even if people focus on the fact he’s royalty…If I ever made you feel bad or awkward, I’m sorry, Noct.”

“No, no, don’t feel bad! You wanted to be my friend. That’s all you ever wanted. It was the others who wanted stuff from me. And we’re not talking about me, we’re talking about our pup,” Noctis said, voice wavering between a sob and a chuckle.

Prompto grabbed a stuffed toy from nearby and dangled it in front of Stellus’ wide, curious eyes. “Don’t think we forgot about you, Stelly! You’ll find great friends too—lifelong ones. You’ll go on all sorts of great adventures together, too.”

“And get in and out of trouble,” Gladiolus added fondly. “You’ll handle it though. You’re gonna be a strong one, I can feel it.”

Ignis smiled. “And we’ll be here for you, Stellus. Every step of the way.”

Noctis burst out crying at the sight. He was surrounded by so much love. Stellus joined just as abruptly and the four sat and cuddled in the sunlight.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy (Late) Father's Day! Here is the last chapter. Enjoy!

 

The greenhouse gardens were warm and balmy. Though outdoors the chill began to set in and even snow was forecast over the next week, the sun poured in to drench the party as they lounged on a quilt in the garden.

An attendant bowed. “Announcing Iris Amicitia, my king.” She shot past him, ignoring decorum and sprinting toward Noctis.

“Thank you!” Prompto yelled from across the garden as the foursome was seized by Iris’ fond congratulations.

“I’m so glad you came!” Gladiolus boomed.

“It took forever, but I'm here. Congratulations, big brother!” She wiped an eye. She knelt in the grass beside the picnic blanket, utterly enchanted by the little bundle in Noctis’ arms. He stared out with wide and curious eyes.

“Say hi to Auntie Iris,” Prompto said. He gently waved with Stellus’ little hand and Iris was all up in uproar.

“Hi there, little Stellus,” Iris said. “I’m auntie Iris! It’s so good to finally see you. I can’t believe how big you are already!”

“He is a bit ahead of schedule, that’s for sure. He is almost ten weeks old,” Ignis said.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been able to visit sooner. You all got my packages, right?”

“How could we miss them?” Noctis chuckled. “Stellus is outnumbered!” The attendant delivered her bags, which appeared stuffed to the brim.

“I’ll share responsibility for that,” Gladiolus said. He winked at Iris.

“Sorry guys, I can’t help myself.” She rummaged in her bag, retrieving a plushie. “Gladio told me that Stellus really loves the malboros the best, so I’ve been sewing up a storm.” She reached in her bag and pulled out a lavender specimen. Stellus reached out, taking the fuzzy little monster and dangling it by its fuzzy tentacles.

“Yeah, he doesn’t like the chocobo plushies at all,” Prompto lamented. “I guess he’s already his own person. How the time flies…”

“I think it’s just because the little tendrils are the most tactile,” Ignis said, sipping his Ebony. “Don’t despair just yet. He hasn’t seen the real thing. Once he’s old enough, we can take him to the chocobo ranch.”

"I can't freakin' wait! It will be so much fun!"

“You have to admit though, these little malboros are kind of cute. Probably because they’re not belching toxic clouds and spawning kin left and right,” Noctis said.

Iris leaned in close to Stellus. “You have all your daddies' eyes. Oh! Look at your little hands.” She turned to Noctis. “I can’t believe how quickly all of this has happened. Now that the cell towers are up in Cleigne, you have to send me pictures.”

“That won’t be a problem,” Noctis said. “Prompto’s taken more photos of him than our ‘road trip.’”

“Hey, I took a lot of pictures back then! Not my fault my memory card only held two-hundred photos. I was planning for a quick trip to Altissia and back, not a spiderweb of driving and fighting,” Prompto protested. He snapped a quick pic of Stellus and sent it to Iris. “To tide you over.”

Iris quickly set it as her phone’s wallpaper and got back to Stellus. “You seem all nice and bundled up. It’s colder outside—baby’s first winter already.”

“It makes me wish I could just televise his debut instead,” Noctis lamented. "I don't want to risk him getting cold."

“It’s tradition,” Gladiolus said. “We’ll bundle him up nice and tight. This is also for the people. They want to see that we're thriving as well. Our story of reunification is something the press has really latched onto."

"Nice to know that we're so inspiring," Prompto replied flatly. 

“And after you're done inspiring people, it's back to work, huh?" Iris said. "Must be tough. I know I wouldn't leave this pup for anything."

“We will learn to adjust. That being said, I'm not sure if it's a good thing or a bad thing that we four are so sorely needed. From what I’ve heard, we have quite the pile to resolve and address,” Ignis said. “One of us will be on hand to take care of the child. Our omega, of course, will keep our pup close throughout the day, when possible."

“I want it to always be like this,” Prompto lamented once more. "It's so depressing."

"We have jobs to do, Prompto. Don't forget that it's for our pup too," Gladiolus said.

“He's right. We’re fortunate to raise our pup in a time of peace. Reconstruction and new political spheres, yes, but no warfare and no Starscourge-borne maladies," Ignis said.

Noctis kissed Stellus’ forehead. “That’s true. I used to think my father was distant and hands-off, but he had to contend with so much. That we spent as much time together as we did is a miracle, all things considered. We’ll find a good balance, just like dad did."

Ignis smiled and leaned on Prompto’s shoulder. Gladiolus took a turn holding the baby as Noctis had his fill of tea and pastry.

“Would you like to hold him?” Gladiolus asked his sister.

She nodded vigorously before the question was even fully posed. She eagerly reached out and Gladiolus gingerly placed the baby in Iris’s arms. She was speechless as he reached up to graze her hair.

“You're so cute. Soon you'll be running around the Citadel, getting into all sorts of trouble,” she cooed. She looked around at Noctis’ pack, eyes watering. Iris sniffed and then pinched her nose. "Oh dear, I think someone needs a change!" she laughed.

 

*  *  *  *  *

 

“It is time, my king.” The attendant stood in the doorway, face politely blank, but still riveted. He had not slept the previous night. All week this even weighed heavily on his mind, and here it was at his doorstep.

The din of the crowd reached vibrated through the room. He hesitated to look out the windows. He held the bundled baby close to his chest, savoring their last moments as only family.

“My king?” She shuffled in the doorway, unsure of what to do with her hands.

“I apologize. I am feeling a little overwhelmed. I will be there shortly. Please, grant me a moment with my son.”

“No apologies necessary. I will inform the organizers,” the attendant said.

He watched the sunlight dance across his child’s features, imprinting the moment on his mind. “From today forward, you will be more than our son.” The crowd would not let up. He walked the line between father and King, anxiously taking turns about the room. There would be no going back to this moment after the heir’s official presentation.

“Our people believe in your strength to carry them, though you have yet to hold a blade. They wait to hear your guidance, though you have not spoken a word.” Tears welled up in his eyes as he brought the baby closer. “I know you will talk tall, though you have yet to take your first steps.” The Ring of the Lucii glinted in his reflection. He knew what awaited his only child and held him tightly. 

For a moment he lost track of time before being brought back by soft sobs which came flowing from the doorway. The attendant revealed herself, hands folded solemnly. “That was so beautiful, my king. Please, forgive my eavesdropping.”

“No offense taken,” he said with a wavering voice. “I apologize. I realize I’m holding up everyone’s affairs. I am on my way.”

As his footsteps resounded through the halls of the Citadel, he felt the presence of his Alpha emerging in warm blooms. The presence was warm and comforting, despite the shared burden of today’s announcements. A warm hand grasped his arm.

“I understand. It’s okay to cry, Regis,” she said warmly. She dabbed his eyes with a handkerchief.

 “What kind of example am I setting for little Noctis. It is so unbecoming of a king,” Regis said with a halfhearted. chuckle.

“But not unbecoming of a father,” she replied. She linked her elbow in his and guided them gently to the bright sunlight at the end of the corridor. “We’ve waited for this moment for so long: us here with our child, ready to share our joy and happiness with the kingdom.” She grasped his shoulders with her silk gloves, smiling warmly. “We’re not pushing Noctis out the door, we’re inviting the kingdom in.”

Noctis cooed in his arms, reaching out to both his parents. Regis could tell that even now, the babe could make out the fullness of the today’s import. “You always know just what to say.” They shared a kiss as they steadied themselves for Noctis' debut.

Arm in arm, they marched together through the blinding halo of the doorway. The light was bright and harsh and immediately he felt the weight of his peoples’ hopes and dreams. As the light cascaded across Noctis’ face, the gathered crowd roared with applause. There was no going back now.

 

*  *  *  *  *

 

Time seemed to slow as Noctis took to the podium with their child. His pack surrounded him at all quarters. Crisp air gusted and billowed throughout the plaza. The sun has blessed them with a full and enthused appearance, melting the powdering of snow that had fallen the night prior.

Light glinted off the lenses of the numerous cameras, broadcasting Stellus across all parts of the continent: the busy markets in Lestallum, the smoky bars and forges of Meldacio, the rainy camps in Duscae, and smoldering heat of Ravatogh. That was enough to rile Noctis. He felt the touch of his Alphas on the small of his back, guiding him closer to the microphone. It was done. All that was left was to introduce Stellus into the public sphere with grace and dignity. Judging by the rapid beating of his heart, Noctis thought it a great task.

Phones and cameras flashed, creating a sea of blinding lights. The crowd, sturdy and weathered as it was, was littered with fellow parents and small packs composed of glowing omegas with child and beaming Alphas, all who will be raising Stellus’ future peers: his classmates, his rivals, his lovers, his tutors, his best friends, his role models, and those who look up to him for guidance, just as his constituents looked to Noctis now, ears perking to hear his formal words.

“It is impossible to describe our feelings right now,” Noctis began. To his surprise, his voice resonated with strength and clarity. His Alphas all had their eyes on him and the baby only. He took their lead. “We stand here today to introduce you all to our family. Say hello, Stellus.” He angled Stellus toward the microphone, and he cooed as if on cue. The crowd erupted into applause. Ignis was quick to protect Stellus’ little eardrums.

“We have all come so far since the Dawn. It is thanks to each and every one of you that the next generation will live in peace and prosperity. Stellus Lucis Caelum, our son, our joy, our little star, will work hard to fulfill his duty to Insomnia and to greater Lucis. Your work is a promise to him and to our next generation, one that he in turn will repeat to their children. As your king, I am filled with pride. As a fellow parent, I’m filled with grateful joy.”

Stellus whined and squinted. Noctis could tell that the baby was overwhelmed. He offered him to Ignis, who swaddled and comforted him as he began to cry.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a shadowy figure. He leaned off-kilter, supported by a cane, yet secure and noble in his stature. Regis smiled as he stood there and from the glinting light, his mother appeared, warm and patient, graceful and strong. They were no hallucinations nor apparitions, but visitors from beyond the veil, come to see their grandson’s arrival into the public sphere. Noctis’ heart raced.

He felt Prompto’s hand curl up in his and he regained his senses, finishing his speech. When he looked back toward that shining spot, his parents had vanished, yet he still felt them in his heart.

Noctis wiped the tufts of hair from Stellus’ eyes. He gazed toward that shadowy spot where moments before his parents had stood. “That’s right, that was grandpa and grandma, Stellus,” he said. 

 

*  *  *  *  *

 

“For our next convening in quarter one of the New Year, I will briefly summarize: Court Financiers of Altissia and Insomnia will present themselves and their tax unification outlines before the end of the fiscal year, to be enacted M.E. 771, with negotiations with sovereign Niflheim formally beginning between King Noctis Lucis Caelum and their parliamentary ambassadoes. Gladiolus Amicitia and Iris Amicitia are to lead their teams in presenting the Hunter Initiative, which will seek to formally unify the hunting guilds across Lucis and Niflheim, with the latter presiding over elections,” Ignis plotted on.

Noctis’ knee jiggled beneath the desk. Luckily his stenographer was on task. His notes had long since deteriorated into a list of supplies: lantern oil, firewood, baby-safe insect repellent, granola bars, portable breast pump, disinfectant, first-aid kit. He was more than willing to pull on all-nighter later. He stood up straight, nodding and making eye-contact as required.

“And that will conclude this week long convening. I know these talks are always a monumental effort, but know that the benefits to our societies will be measurable and substantial. Thank you all for your continued attention.” He nodded towards Noctis and smiled. “I want to thank Sirs Agnys Volaria and Zach Avem for travelling up to Insomnia for this important occasion.”

“Thank you for hosting us, as always,” the omega replied.

“As always minutes of this convening will be accessible via our intranet. Please send word to the Adviser’s office if any further details are required. Our secretaries will be on-hand,” Ignis said. He turned to Noctis, nudging him with the tip of his boot beneath the table. “If you will do the honors?”

Noctis stood, perhaps a bit too quickly, with his gavel in hand. “I formally adjourn our convening. See you all in the New Year!”

Before he could get caught up in side conversations, he quickly absconded with Ignis and dashed toward the elevator.

“Luckily they know nothing is amiss. Seeing a king dash off like that would raise alarm bells otherwise,” Ignis said.

“I know, I know,” Noctis said. “I just can’t wait for the weekend, that’s all.”

Ignis nuzzled up to Noctis, “Me neither. It took all I had not to rush through the notes.”

They burst through their apartment doors. Prompto was on hand with Stellus, who was strapped into a baby carrier on his chest. He gestured proudly towards their supplies. “We’re all ready to go, as promised!”

Gladiolus was beside him, gear gathered in his huge arms. “Job’s only half-done. Grab a bag, you two!”

They swiftly loaded the Regalia. Stellus gurgled and giggled as he watched his parents load the Insomnia, as they had done countless times before. Something about packing made Noctis’ heart swell with bittersweet nostalgia of their time on the road. Now they composed new memories together. Stellus’ baby bag slotted neatly on top of the camping supplies.

As they pulled out onto the highway, Prompto turned around in his seat and polled his pack. “What should I play to start off baby’s first camping trip? We gotta set the mood!”

“I got it,” Noctis said. He took the jack from Prompto and plugged it into his phone. Stellus watched with curious eyes as Noctis scrolled through his playlist. “I think Stellus will like this one. This was your daddies’ favorite songs when we traveled together.”

He held the phone up to Stellus, whose aimless taps started the track. A steady bass line started them off. Gladiolus sighed contentedly behind the wheel. “This really brings me back.”

“Good choice, love,” Ignis said.

“Wanna sing along, little one?” Noctis said. “Ready? One, two, three. ‘When the night has come/and the land is dark…’”

“’And the moon is the only light we’ll see,’” Prompto joined in.

“’No I won’t be afraid, no I won’t be afraid,’” Gladiolus sang in a deep baritone.

“’Just as long as you stand, stand by me,’” Ignis finished off.

The four inhaled deeply and belted, “’SO DARLING, DARLING STAND BY ME!’”

Noctis took in the scene. This would be the first of many camping trips with their child and already he could tell Stellus was excited. There was so much left to build and repair, many memories left to relate and heal, and unknown frontiers moving ever closer. With the strength of their bond, however, Noctis was sure they could weather anything and that their baby would learn from their example.

Soon they were across the bridge that the four of them traveled across together so many years ago and Noctis looked back on the life they had built together and smiled. Then he smelled a dirty diaper.

"Looks like someone needs a change. Pull into a rest stop, Gladio," Prompto said. "Luckily we're prepared!"

"All right, first one's on you, buddy."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading my first baby fic! It was a new exercise for me, as evidenced by my returning to my angst-ridden comfort zone. I couldn't resist. I hope it was adequately fluffy and cute at the end. 
> 
> I am planning on adding more to this one and writing other FFXV fic as well--both smutty and long, plot-driven ones.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is mostly written and will update weekly!
> 
> For those of you who recognize the title, it is borrowed from a Disney song by Frank Chuchill. It's been absorbed into jazz standard canon, the Miles Davis version being a constant aural companion throughout the writing of this fic.


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